Taking out the Trash
by skabs
Summary: Buffy is adjusting to life after Sunnydale, Harry is adjusting to life after Hogwarts. Cleanup is a pain. BTVS X HP rated to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

This is just a teaser. I actually have about nine pages typed out at the moment. Just wanted to see if anyone might be interested in reading… I'm going to post the rest anyway, its not going to be a long fic at all. btw, i hate that you can't tab with this program.

* * *

Just walking down the street took everything he had. His hand pressed to his side, under the light jacket, his breath hitched as his palm grew damp. He could only hope that the blood wouldn't drip down his jeans and leave a damning trail behind. 

He cursed himself over and over in his mind. He shouldn't have been so stupid; he shouldn't have taken that risk. He was honestly amazed he was still alive and walking, stumbling, away. He apologized quickly to a man he stumbled against, and jerked himself upright with pure will and determination. He didn't know where he was going; he just knew he had to get as far away as he possibly could.

He kept his head bowed, more because he couldn't keep it straight than an attempt to keep anyone from recognizing him. His vision wavered, black and white with glimpses of the sidewalk and multiple feet walking away from him.

He heard a buzzing sound, paused for a second, then looked up to find the source of the annoying noise. She stood in front of him, her fists resting on her hips as she spoke sternly. Her hair was blond, reflecting the sun so it hurt his eyes; her lips were red.

Reminded suddenly of the wound on his side, he pulled his hand from under his jacket and wondered how he was going to stop the bleeding with a hysterical female blocking his route. The last thing he thought before his eyes rolled up and his knees finally gave out was how pretty her alarmed eyes were, just like the sky…

* * *

He had been staggering all over the sidewalk when he rammed into her. She straightened him and was reading him the riot act when she noticed his eyes. He was either high or incredibly drunk; he wouldn't remember the lecture she was delivering anyway. It was ten in the morning and already the man was escaped in his own little world. She paused when he drew his hand from under his jacket, and noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, as the blood dripped from his shaking fingers. He looked her right in her eyes before he suddenly collapsed. 

Pulling her cell phone out she called emergency as she dropped to her knees and pressed her own hand against the gaping hole just under his rib cage, trying desperately to stop the blood flow. She handed her phone to a bystander; let him give the information to the dispatcher as a crowd gathered. She pulled off her scarf and folded it into a square, pressing down hard, it quickly became stained. Time seemed to stand still, but less than eight minutes passed before a large white ambulance arrived.

She didn't have to go with them, but she found herself sitting on the narrow bench by the strangers head before she knew what it was she was doing.

He was remarkably pale, from blood loss, she guessed. The contrast between the dark wavy hair and the shocky blue lips was frightening. He was a tall man, stretched out his feet dangled awkwardly off the stretcher; his fingers were long in her hand and horribly cold. Then they were at the hospital, and his fingers slid away as they hurried him through the waiting room and into surgery. A nurse handed her a clip board to fill out, not realizing she knew nothing personal of that man except that his eyes were a clear, clear emerald green.


	2. waking up in a hospital room

_Flashes of light, red, green, sizzling hot blue, shot past his sight. Every new attack bounced harmlessly away from him every time it got within three feet. He smirked at the angry growls, but held his ground. His prey was coming to him this time. The tables had turned…_

Eyes opened quickly, closed as a brilliant white light shone directly into his brain. He heard the steady beeping of machines, felt the soft fabric under his bared frame, and turned his head away from the bright lamp lit on the side table. He took a deep breath and hissed at the sudden pulling at his side. His hand tried to move, to check, and to reassure; he couldn't lift it more than three inches off the bed before exaustion took over. When he sensed a shuffle at his feet he hesitated, then opened his eyes carefully.

Blond hair had fallen in front of her face as she sat in what looked like a hard plastic chair, with her head dipped down in sleep. She looked vaguely like her hair had swallowed her; as her breath pulled in and out in steady waves, the tips of her hair swayed at her breast line, just brushing the arms she'd crossed her stomach with.

He snorted softly to himself, it seemed that no matter where he went, someone would find the need to take care of him whether he wanted care or not. He settled himself carefully on his back, closed his eyes and concentrated. It would be better, he knew, if she never found out who he was, and what he was running from. He couldn't wait for her to wake up to thank her, in fact he knew he had to leave as soon as possible. Let her life be thanks enough, if she stuck around him she'd only end up dead.

* * *

She knew the second he was awake. Watching him from behind a curtain of hair, she smirked gently as he groaned about the bright lamplight. He'd been in surgery for three hours, and then passed out from medication and blood loss for another six. It was eight in the evening and she was sure her friends would be pacing the floors and debating whether or not to call her cell phone in panic. She'd threatened unnecessary bodily harm the next time someone called her to mediate a dispute over a broken hair brush handle, and she'd meant it. Taking care of a house full of regular teenaged girls would drive any professional guidance counselor insane. _These_ teenaged girls would be the death of her. At the moment, caring for a passed out frat boy was soothing. And she could count the number of times someone had thought that on a hand that never existed; she was putting down the first finger now. 

She watched as he tried to move, and frowned as he started taking shallow meditative breaths. Ok, he was not some normal guy if he was that calm about waking up in an unknown room connected to strange devices. She didn't care what anyone said, being connected to those beepy things was not comforting, they were down right creepy and depressing. Then she pushed her hair from her face as she noticed that all the light in the room was wavering around the bed, surrounding the guy in an egg shaped cocoon. His breathing deepened, as if he couldn't feel the wound in his side pulling at the stitches, and his arms raised parallel to the bed about five inches up. His hands clasped loosely over his side and the light seemed to suck itself from the cocoon and directly to the space between his hands and the bandage stuck to his abs.

"_Curatio vulnus_," he whispered softly, and gently the light dissipated as he took another deep breath and sat up carefully, his eyes closed as he sighed in relief.

* * *

When he opened his eyes he noticed one very important thing. She was no longer asleep, and her eyes were anything but the compassionate blue they'd been when he first had seen them. Now they were frozen, and not from confusion or uncertainty, but from pure anger.

"If you could do that…" she whispered so he had to lean forward slightly to catch her voice, "why didn't you do that earlier? So that I wouldn't panic and end up wasting my entire day at your bedside?"

"Ma'am," he asked, trying to buy some time.

"Don't act dumb with me now. I saw that nifty little spell, now what do you want?"

Her voice was frostier than her eyes, her arms now crossed in front of her chest in an attempt to keep them from ripping his deceiving little face off. He had two options. He could explain himself…

"If you try to magik your way out of this, think again."

Okay, so, apparently, he had one option.


	3. explaining yourself

instead of going back and setting off alarms... disclaimer, Buff belongs to Whedon, Harry to Rowling. no new characters, so nothing belongs to me.

* * *

"I was a bit delirious," he explained. "That incantation takes concentration and time, if I had been interrupted during it; I imagine I could have leveled an entire city block."

She seemed to take that on faith, slightly taken aback by something, which he assumed, was his accent. No matter how long he was in the states in seemed like no one had heard a real British accent before.

"Ok, then what are you doing here? Who were you fighting, and why?"

"I'd rather keep that on a need to know basis. I'm very sorry, and I thank you for your help," he said as he levered himself out of bed, thankful that some thoughtful soul had place him in hospital scrub pants instead of a paper dress. "I need to leave now, it's safer that way."

"You think you can leave looking like that?" She noticed his nicely muscled form. He was lanky allright, but filled out. He'd been through a number of battles according to the new scars, and the older ones. Serious battles.

He looked down at himself and shrugged, "more impossible things have happened, you know?" He mentally flipped through his catalogue of spells and was about to decide on one when her hand grasped his shoulder. Her fingers dug softly into his skin, her nails pricked gently, but he wasn't going anywhere. She was strong.

"I need to know if there is a problem in this city that needs to be taken care of."

"A problem?"

"We are on the sight of an active Hellmouth," she stated so matter-of-fact that he felt his jaw slam wide open. "I need to know if there is anything in the area that is trying to upset the balance."

"Why?" he could only think to ask. Fleeing the room, and subsequently the blond, fled his mind.

"This is what I do, now if you don't tell me what the hell, pun intended, is going on here, I will personally introduce you to my fist, and trust me when I say you won't be able to magik your way from that."

He paused, thinking carefully about how to go about his escape. If he could squeeze around the truth he could probably get the girl to help him get out of the hospital. Really all he needed were shoes and a jacket, possibly a shirt. Then he could ditch her outside as soon as he got enough room between them. She had crossed the space between them, and would notice any casting at the moment too quickly for him to move away.

"I will tell you as soon as we leave here. They'll be searching hospital wards for me, and I can't risk that others will get hurt."

As far as she could tell he was being honest. And she had a highly sensitive bull-shit radar.

"Fine, we'll leave, but you will tell me everything I want to know. Follow me," she opened the door and watched carefully for interference. It was after hours, so the only staff left on the floor were the night nurses. It wouldn't be easy to sneak past them, she knew from personal experience, night nurses were like freak'n hawks when it came to their patients. In fact she was shocked they let her stay so late, in any other hospital she'd have been kicked out hours ago. She had managed to make the afternoon shift feel sorry for her and her "brother" so they'd been left alone, after she promised to leave when he woke up. Well, she was keeping her promise, she thought, she hadn't told them that he wouldn't leave when he woke too. "This may be a bit difficult."

"If you trust me, I can make it less so," already resigned to needing her assistance he figured that a little showing off would be beneficial rather than detrimental. And she obviously knew about magic so he wasn't going to break any oaths.

"How so?" Closing his eyes he grabbed hold of the back of her shirt and whispered carefully while pressing his other hand against his heart.

"_Absconditus_," he breathed out, a calm blue fog seemed to leak from his lips and surround him. A second later and he was gone, only the tugging on her shirt proved that he was still standing behind her.

"Now that's handy. Come on," she left the room and walked down the hall. As she passed the nurse's station she had to stop and sign off the floor. The nurse looked up from her trashy romance novel and put on her, "I'm attentive" face.

"Has your brother woken up Miss. Mathews?" She smiled at the red headed matron and shook her head.

"No ma'am, my other brother called me and told me to get my butt home. Jerry's not going to die now if he hasn't died already. We'll all come and check in the morning."

"You sleep well now, no point in seeing he's doing all right if you're not, darling."

He tugged sharply on the hem of her shirt; he wanted her to wrap it up.

"Good night." She kicked back into his shin, softly, but hard enough to make him gasp. The red head looked up from her novel again.

"What was that dear?"

"Nothing, thank you so much for your help," with that she maneuvered to the elevator and pressed for one floor down.

"Was that necessary?" he griped.

"Don't rush me," she hissed back, and stepped off the elevator when it stopped. "The nurse's changing station is over here. We'll find something in one of the lockers for you, I'm sure."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, dressed in boots, jeans and a fleece pull over, the young man looked far better than he had. The jeans were a little short, but the boots covered his ankles, all in all he looked vaguely eighties.

He just shrugged at her comment and starting thinking of ways he could ditch her. Unfortunately it was as if she'd read his mind. Linking her arm through his, he couldn't get away without an explosive device, he never knew a girl with her kind of grip before.

"Why don't we start with names? I know yours isn't Jerry, and unless you're a moron you've figured out that my name isn't Mathews."

"Harry," he sighed, forced to go along for the moment.

"I'm pleased to meet you, I'm Buffy."

"That's an… unusual name," he had to think for a moment. Was it unusual in the states? Did they have a million girls named Buffy?

"I know, but it seems to fit." She'd had to deal with a lot of crap about her name over the years; she refused to acknowledge it anymore.

"So what is it you want to know Miss. Buffy?"

"You're a mage right? What happened?"

"I'm a wizard, from England, I'm tracking down some rather unsavory characters and I got caught unawares," he said. It was the truth, full and unvarnished.

"These unsavory characters, are they wizards too?"

"Yes, aligned with one centralized wizard who was defeated three years ago. I am tracking down the rest of them and either bringing them before a full jury or fighting to the death. I was on the trail of one, not realizing that he was meeting with others. I thought I had the drop on him, and instead they turned around and burned me."

"Do you think they are here because of the hell mouth?"

"It is possible. They refuse to believe that their leader is gone. They will stop at nothing to try and resurrect him again."

"Again?" Buffy pounced on the keyword.

"I really have said enough. I explained myself and my presence in your city as a thank you for helping me. The rest of my mission is- I am sorry to say, solitary." Relaxing his arm he slipped it away from her before she could get a better grip.

"Harry," she protested.

"Thank you again, Buffy," and with a clap of absent air, he disappeared.

"Great. I know less than nothing. As usual," she frowned absently, a tiny line appearing between her eyebrows as she concentrated. She couldn't smell him, she couldn't hear him… there was no feeling as if there were something following like there had been when he was invisible. He was really gone this time. And she never even got to ask him about the scar that had suddenly popped into being when he'd been unconscious, and just as suddenly had disappeared when he woke up.


	4. Xanman

short, but sweet... to thank you guys for your awesome reviews. first time i've had acctually helpful comments, like the fact that Harry hasn't questioned why Buffy knows so much about magic. trust me, it'll come up in the next chapter, but i'm making a couple of adjustments now. on my way to work... gotta fly.

* * *

By the time Buffy had gotten home it was full dark. Xander, his eye patch glaring at her somehow, accusing her of making him worry, sat at the counter on a rickety stool.

"Sorry pal, unavoidable circumstances."

"That left me here with the mini-slayers, all by myself?" he griped. He hadn't gotten a hair cut in almost a year; his shiny brown hair fell to his collar and beyond, caught up in a stubby ponytail at the nape of his neck. Buffy stole a slice of pizza from the boxes piled on the stove and pulled up another stool to sit next to her friend.

"Spent the afternoon in the hospital."

"You ok?" he immediately went into check for injuries mode.

"Ran into a bleeder downtown, hauled him in, and waited for him to wake."

"Vamp?"

"No, wizard."

"He was attacked by a wizard? Rare much?" Xander calmed down enough to snag himself some pizza and brought back a couple of cokes from the fridge.

"No, well yeah, but he was a wizard too," she took a sip and contemplated the can. "Claimed he was a good guy, tracking down bad guys, and they got the slip on him."

"You trust this guy?"

"He seemed sincere, but I really didn't have much chance to agree or dis. He vanished on me, in the middle of the sidewalk. Just poofed out."

"Poofed?"

"You know, like, become not there anymore," Buffy shrugged. "Got no other word for it Xan-man."

"Okay, so how bouts we switch topics there matey?"

"Xander, for the last time, pirate talk is not making a come back. I'll allow it on National Talk Like a Pirate day, but please, for my sanity, give it a rest."

"Hey, if the patched wonder doesn't have a legitimate excuse for tossing in all the ahoys he can, who does?"

"Switch topics to something I DO have control over, please."

"Who is patrolling tonight?"

"Bethany and Mel," Xander raised his eyebrow above his patch, he thought it was more dramatic.

"Yes, I'm sure. Those two need to realize that they are not divas. They are Slayers and they have to learn to work with each other."

"Which is ironic considering Slayer history only activating one girl at a time till recently," Xander drawled as he finished his pizza crust.

"As the oldest living Slayer in history I can attest to the buddy-system. I've lost track of how many times you've saved my ass, I've saved your ass and all the special permutations along the way."

"Aye, aye," Xander slipped in, raising his can with a grin she knew he saved all for her. Tapping her coke against his she allowed herself an answering smirk.


	5. What a tangled web

Harry could only sigh in disgust. Why, for once, couldn't Death Eaters congeal in a sunny Bahamian resort instead of a dark, dank cemetery? He muffled a curse as he stumbled over a half-buried stone, and knocked his shin against the one next to it. He saw stars as he hit his bruise.

Once he'd gotten back to his hotel he'd taken a look at the throbbing pain in his leg and was amazed at the head sized bruise that was forming. That girl was strong, her grip and her mind. She'd managed to put together several facts from his vague hints; he had to wonder what a girl who looked like that did for a living that required that kind of mind. She wasn't a wizard, but she had a shimmery aura; like she could've been a wizard once, if something else hadn't come up instead. Harry looked up as he heard a shuffling of feet nearby.

A group of four robed men stood surrounding a head stone, the statue of a graceful angel staring benevolently down at the ground below. He adjusted the strap to his wand holder carefully, and debated with himself on how to handle the situation. Four Death Eaters was not an uncommon number for an Auror to take on alone, but it did make the odds a bit unfair. Harry knew he could stun two of them before the others would have a chance to fight back, but then he would be in the open and a prime target.

And he had no guarantee that they were all Death Eaters. One might be a werewolf, or even a vampire. All he knew for certain was that one of them was Malfoy.

"_Nos desideratus tu_, Potter," His voice was mocking, and as cold as it had ever been at school.

"Been brushing up on your Latin Draco?" Harry could only smirk, "I would reply in kind, but I have the feeling you were being sarcastic."

"Really Potter, it was merely a welcome between mortal enemies, I was being polite you filthy blood-traitor." As always the well bred snob rang clear in his tone, and apparently he was still pissed about Harry sending his dad to Azkaban.

"I don't recall swearing any oaths to Voldie; therefore defeating him wasn't a traitorous act."

"I'll grant you that point, and seeing as how we have you surrounded I'll ask for your surrender before tearing your limbs from your body," Harry was aware of the multitude of bodies gathered around his vantage point, he'd been aware of them for quite some time. Malfoy would forever think he'd outsmarted Potter, it was one thing Harry could always count on. With the tip of his wand he finished the small diagram he'd begun burning into the ground in front of him, and he jumped into the air levitating for a brief moment as he shouted his incantation.

"_Casses Aranea_!" A white light shot from his wand, onto the ground, and spread out in the pattern of a spider's web. Effectively it stuck anyone standing on the ground to it, two hundred feet in every direction. Landing on a headstone Harry twirled around, stunned Malfoy and another wizard in the configuration of four, before leaping to another head stone and surveying the damage.

It seemed that somehow Malfoy was able to gather the areas vampires to him; the other hooded figures hissed their disappointment at how easily they were trapped. Hard ridges sprouted from their foreheads and fangs made their anger known. If they had been just a bit closer to Malfoy, Harry was willing to bet, there would be some chunks missing from the platinum blonds body.

* * *

Buffy was impressed. She had to admit that the lanky stranger she'd rescued that morning had a bit of flair. Style and intelligence went into that attack, the only problem was that she and her mini's had been on their way to save the guy, and gotten stuck in his spell. 

Buffy was pissed. She would have been willing to wait for him to notice them, if it didn't look as if he were preparing to fire off another spell. Not knowing exactly what was in store for them made her anxious enough to yell out.

"Harry! You unfreeze me now!" She would have stomped her foot if she could have pulled it off the grass.

The brunette interrupted his incantation and spun around only to laugh as Buffy crossed her arms over her chest in a familiar movement.

"Sorry darling, didn't see you there," ignoring the two girls behind the Slayer he skipped on top of headstones until he was closer to the blond. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same question wizard." Buffy also ignored Mel and Bethany, not having the patience at the moment to deal with their hissed comments about Harry's "darling" comment.

"I told you, I've been tracking some rouges. Found some," he pointed with his wand to the two bodies lying prone on the ground. "Now I have to bundle them up and transport them to England."

"So you're leaving Cleveland then," Buffy nodded in satisfaction. She didn't want to deal with Harry any more than she had to. Something about him just didn't sit right.

"Actually…"

"You're sticking around?"

"Yep. These guys aren't exactly the ones I was tracking. They're still in the area, but have pretty well developed aliases and such." Harry shrugged, it wasn't his fault that the Ministry had let so many Death Eaters escape the nifty trap they'd set during the fight with Voldemort.

"Fine… unstick me now," Buffy hissed, grabbing up to twist Harry's collar in her hand. He almost fell to the ground, straightening up at the last second.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"Do you want me to hurt you?" Buffy asked, seriously imagining his head just blowing off his neck. She'd seen shit like that before; she wouldn't mind seeing it again.

"Just thought I'd ask you while I hold your attention captivated," Harry was well aware of Buffy's anger, but something about his twisted personality liked pissing her off.

"I'm a Slayer," she said shortly, brandishing her stake. "Now unstuck me or I'll stick you!"

"Do you mind if I get rid of the vamps first? I don't feel too comfy about letting them wander about, and if I undo you, I undo them."

"Just do it quick." Harry turned back to the web center and took a deep breath. He could do this spell without his wand, but felt like putting on a show. Holding his wand hand out in front of him, and a bit to the side, he gathered power on the tip and let it glow lightly before tracing ruins in a half circle above his head. As the tip wavered against the air it left a sparkling orange light, like fire flickering against the dark sky. With a final flick and twist at the end he spoke the incantation, as Professor Flitwik had such a long time ago.

"_Oriens sol solis_," he said in a clear and commanding voice. The ruins flared out in bright light, leaving only Harry's shadow to protect the girls against the sudden flooding of light. It was as if the sun had risen, for just a few seconds. And when the darkness returned over a dozen piles of ash littered the cemetery grounds.

While the girls blinked, trying to rid themselves of the millions of starry lights flickering against their eyes, Harry dropped his wand toward the ground and muttered quietly, "_dimitto_." He jumped off the head stone and made his way toward the collapsed Draco.

The second Buffy could see, she was after him; grabbing him, and actively restraining herself from popping his head off his shoulders.

"Really, what the hell is going on?"

"I'll answer that as soon as I have Draco gone his way," Harry answered calmly. He shook her hand off his arm and knelt next to his once time classmate.

"Potter," Malfoy hissed, unable to move his wand arm up to attack, his only defense being thinly veiled contempt.

"I tried to help you Draco, you refused," Harry took Malfoy's wand and gathered the anonymous Death Eater as he fished around in his pocket for the port keys he'd made. "You always tried to prove yourself better than me," Harry shook his head as Draco started to protest. "You never understood that I was never better than anyone else, including you. You refused to believe that I didn't want my fate. I could have cared less to be what I was; you chose to embrace this destiny when you could have fought against it." Harry pinned a smiley face pin to each of the men's capes. "These will take you back to the Ministry. I hope you haven't done enough to deserve the fate that awaits you otherwise."

"I'll get you one of these days. When you least expect it." Malfoy hissed as the port keys took effect. With in a few seconds there were only flat plots of grass to indicate there had ever been anyone there at all.

"That's the difference between you and me Malfoy," Harry sighed as he snapped the wands over his knee and tossed away the pieces. "I always expect it."


	6. slaying 101

is it wierd that when i'm editing i tend to speak outloud? in british accents?

* * *

Turning back to Buffy Harry was amazed to find her in the midst of a fight. She kicked off to the side, effectively separating the two teens with a boot to the gut and a hand grasped tightly in curled red hair.

"For the last freak'n time," she was complaining, "I don't care about your stupid popularity contests! You are here to learn how to slay correctly and as a team! Now stop fighting each other, and concentrate on them!" Buffy yanked up and pointed out the gathering vamps with an angry gesture. "Harry didn't get rid of the ones outside his influence, which means there is plenty more slaying to go around. Now go do your jobs." With a final snort of disgust she released the one and stepped back to observe.

"I could…"

"No, you couldn't. They are Slayers and they have to learn to act like it," Buffy cut off his offer to help. She leaned against a headstone and watched as Mel delivered a spinning high kick to the side of an ugly's head. The momentum pushed him right into Bethany's stake. Her grey eyes narrowed as she yanked her stake from the rapidly disintegrating rib cage, and turned to face her own opponent.

Pushing the hair that had been dislodged by Buffy's temper storm back behind her ear, Mel jumped over a headstone and landed in the middle of three vamps. They looked to be relatively new, still in their grave clothes and therefore probably unprepared for a fight. She dusted two of them easily, but was pushed back by the third as he kicked out at her shoulder. Dropping her stake she barely had time to react to his sudden rush by grabbing his shirt at the shoulders and tossing him, judo style, over her head.

"Sloppy!" Mel just shook her head at Buffy's comment and grabbed an extra stake from the holster at her ankle.

Bethany was holding her own, with her short black hair creating a cloud of dusted vampire every time she moved. She clicked her boot heel and kicked out, impaling a rushing vampire with her new stake attachment. She was very proud of her inventions and always appreciated an audience. Harry had nodded when her addition popped out, then clapped as it worked perfectly. She blushed slightly at the approval, but got her head back in the game as he shouted, "Left!"

"Harry the point to teaching is to sometimes let them make their own mistakes," Buffy pointed out as Bethany instinctively ducked a sweeping arm. Then her own arm yanked back and grabbed the front of a t-shirt, pulling him to the ground. Then she kicked down and once again used her heel to her advantage.

"Yes, I know, but then again I distracted her in the first place. Didn't want my interference to be the cause of her injury," he shrugged when she glared at him. He was used to glares like that, and the same old excuse that Snape had given about potions. He didn't like the excuse when he was in school, and now as an adult he could afford to ignore it.

Before long the two mini-slayers were getting tired, and only a handful of vampires remained. After nearly twenty minutes the two had managed to work in the same space, often working in tandem by tossing and dusting one together, without injuring each other. Buffy allowed the remaining vamps to run away, and feeling rather proud of her strategy, carefully laid her arms over the panting girls shoulders.

"See how much easier that was?" She gloated a bit, turning back to Harry when the girls groaned in agony.

"Now they hate you, more than they could ever hate each other." Harry nodded as he noticed the girls killing glares directed at their mentor.

"One strategy of getting teenagers to work together is by giving them a common enemy. They won't quit now until they've somehow put me through worse agony than the pulled muscles and bruised egos they've received tonight." All in all she seemed rather pleased with the prospect, and Harry decided that it couldn't be worse than the some of the pranks he'd seen during his years at Hogwarts, or the ones the twins had recently come up with to sell at their shop… Maybe he'd get those girls a catalogue…

* * *

Harry ended up following them home. He had no idea how she'd managed to convince him to stay with them, he really had no clue how he'd ended up with two teenaged Vampire Slayers hanging off each arm.

Bethany was telling him about some of her inventions, like a gas powered stake shooter, while Mel just gazed up at him in an adoring fashion that he'd gotten sick of quickly in the years following Voldemort's defeat. He was so uncomfortable at this point, he was really wishing for a Weasley's catalogue.Wether it was to distract the girls or order somthing for himself that would have them slipping off his arms and staying off them, he had no idea.

"You can bunk with Xander. I know he's getting tired of being the only guy in the house," Buffy commented when Bethany paused for breath.

"What about Andrew?" Mel asked, then caught Bethany's giggle. "Right."

"Which brings me to a question," Harry took advantage of the disruption with a mercenary quickness.

"And that would be?"

"How many of you are there?"

"Twenty-six," Mel answered, then smiled brightly when Harry turned his shocked and rather worried eyes to her.

"Not all of them living at the house right now though," Bethany pointed out, causing Mel to pout as his attention was pulled away.

"Janice, Lucy, and Katie are all out with Faith, training in Texas. Athena, Abigail, Vera and Lane are with Willow and her Kennedy in Los Angeles…" Mel started ticking off her fingers as she recounted her sisters-in-arms. "And Sam is currently sulking in the woods."

"So that leaves fifteen girls, all living in one house?"

"Sharing four bathrooms," Buffy nodded at the horrified expression on Harry's face. "Sometimes I wake up with nightmares about missing toothbrushes and lip gloss."

"I think maybe it'll be better for everyone if I just go back to my motel…"

"I think it would be better if I could keep an eye on you. Girls, don't let him go."

"Yes ma'am." Mel grinned, hugging Harry's arm tighter.

"Circulation!" he hissed, "its essential to some."

"You've still got plenty of room for that. If would take just a bit more leverage to really snap your arm. Trust me."

"God, Mel, possessive much?" Bethany sneered.

"Just following orders," she laid her head on Harry's shoulder and sighed in contentment, while Harry just sighed, resigned.


	7. eyeballs

you guys get a bonus, mostly because i couldn't fit the chapter with the end of the last one or the begining of the next one comfortabley in my mind. and because i had a frenzy of writing when i finally figured out the back story of how harry defeated volemort. it just came to me, and i was shocked that it made so much sense... five pages later, and i need to sleep before i work in... five hours... ouch!

* * *

It wasn't as bad as Harry had envisioned. Somehow the group had gotten their hands on a mansion of sorts. Not so big that each girl got their own rooms, but big enough for two master suites. Xander was set up in one wing, with Buffy and Faith (when she was in residence), in the other. Harry was just relieved that he wouldn't have to share a bathroom with a gaggle of girls.

He somehow untangled himself from feminine arms and found himself sitting on one of the queen sized beds shoved up against a lilac painted wall. On both sides of the room were large windows, light green curtains tied at the edges and the carpet was somehow a mix of the two colors. It was restful, and not exactly masculine for a mans room. He shrugged to himself, if Xander liked the colors than the guy liked the colors. He was aware that not everyone had the fetish for dark wood furnishings and deep burgundy sashes like he did.

"Make yourself at home," his voice was weary, but welcoming.

"Thank you," Harry cleared his throat nervously. He was always uneasy about meeting new people, especially in a situation where it didn't seem as if he had a lot of control. Xander was used to that feeling, what with being friends with the Slayer and her whole "destiny" thing, he'd given up control of his life his sophmore year in high school.

"I'm not sure what Buffy has told you about me…"

"Wizard, good guy, not going to add to my growing collection of war wounds…" Xander started off, turning around so that Harry could see the eye patch on his left eye, "at least I'm hope'n."

"At the moment, your hopes are safe…" Harry leaned forward a bit to examine the patch, "do you still have an eye there at all? Or was it scooped out?"

"Excuse me?" Xander started a bit, that was a brand new reaction to his eyeless ness.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I have a friend got his eye scooped out with a mystical spoon…" Harry trailed off, uncomfortably aware that he was now blushing.

"Mystical spoon? That's a new one." Xander scoffed.

"Well, they couldn't regrow it, so he's had his brothers help him enchant some glass eyes. Can see rather well out of them… well, the ones the twins haven't pranked that is."

"Wait, what do you mean by regrow?" Xander sat down on the bed opposite Harry's and leaned forward eagerly.

"Well, if you've lost the eye by normal means, non-magical, I could probably see if my _redintegro_ potion might work. Or if it doesn't I can ask Ron to fix you up with a set. He's gotten rather good; I think he might make a business out of it."

"My eye was gouged out by an arrogant, misogynistic, defrocked priest being used by the First Original Evil as a vessel. Does that count as non-magical?"

Harry could only blink in response. Xander had said that with a straight face, and honest enthusiasm for the answer. And here Harry thought his life had been messed up…


	8. breakfast

After discussing various magical remedies and going through long explanation on how a glass eye could be enchanted to act like a real one, Harry decided that breakfast was in order. Apparently Xander, not fazed at all by the fact that they hadn't even thought of sleeping yet, agreed. It was near six in the morning and some of the girls where still in high school. Xander, being "house mom", was accustomed to being up and cooking for his brood at all hours.

Harry followed Xander down into the kitchens and had to stop himself from exclaiming over the confection oven. As a hold over from his days at the Dursley's, he found himself a skilled and interested cook. He loved new recipes and shiny blender attachments. His wizard friends all told him he was nuts, but they never refused an invitation to dinner. He pushed Xander out of the way and took command of the kitchen. The counters were all smooth golden wood; the cabinets matched them with the shiny stainless silver appliances to break the gleaming finish. The floor was tiled in a pale blue that managed to be off by one shade in each tile from its mate. The effect was rather disorienting, as if you were staring into the ocean. The window over the sink was curtained by a filmy blue, and the long breakfast table seating looked like it had once been a park bench, lovingly restored to a golden wood gleam, the padding matched the blue curtains.

Harry adored the kitchen on sight, and rolled up his sleeves to prepare the breakfast of his life.

Xander could only watch with awe as he discovered this new aspect of their weird wizard friend. When Harry discovered that they didn't have any fresh fruit left (you try keeping fruit stocked in a house full of teenaged girls) he just waved his wand, muttered a few words, and suddenly a basket filled with fresh ripe strawberry's had appeared on the table. As Xander gaped, popping a few strawberries into his wide open mouth, Harry set about with flour and eggs, vanilla and cream. Every once in a while he would leave something, like wisking the cream, and the wisk would continue without him.

Xander could see where being a wizard could come in handy. By the time the first few girls had wearily joined him at the table the first batch of crepes was done. Most of the girls were sitting down before they realized that the mad man in the kitchen was not Xander, and was (in fact) a handsome young man with a blinding smile who was a stranger to all of them.

"Xan-xan, did we get a new chef?" Mirabel asked as she yawned and wrapped her arms around Xander's neck, leaning on him as she studied Harry.

"Duck!" Harry suddenly remembered that none of these girls had seen a breakfast prepared by a wizard before, really just in time. The girls all hit the deck, except for Mirabel, who was still leaning on Xander, just as the breakfast shot from the pans and bowls to the serving plates Harry'd magicked into place. He didn't have to do it like that. He could have peacefully floated the food from the pans to the plates, but he'd forgotten.

Luckily his error did not start a food fight. No one was smeared by the fresh jams and jellies, no one ended up with a crepe to the face. In fact they were all sitting at the table by the time he remembered to brew coffee, and scarfing down his offerings, hardly pausing to chew.

"Sorry Xander, I didn't even ask permission," he started, but stopped when Xander's eye caught his. The man was cheerfully devouring all the slayer-girls would let him have. He lost a quick jab to a crepe, and contemplated going after it, but Janice glared at him as she slipped it onto her own plate.

"You'll stay here forever and cook for us all right?" Xander managed around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Harry had to admit, nothing really brought a smile to his face quicker than people just being people. He loved listening to arguments, jokes, and mundane conversations about what percent milk was best for your body. He knew that if dark forces had their way, none of those things would be possible. And here he was, sitting in a room full of teenaged girls, all of whom where training to keep those stupid disagreements, and cheerful conversations feasible. He felt so full up with light at the moment that he almost agreed instantly. He would do anything to keep feeling that way.

And then Buffy walked into the room.

* * *

"Wow," Buffy watched as her mini's battled over breakfast. She was impressed by how much Xander had improved his cooking if the jealousy over muffins was raising itself to a slapping argument between Xu chai and Patricia. Those two loved their muffins, and they were fighting over the last blueberry with girly slaps to the hands that reached for it. 

"Here," Harry reached over, winked cheerfully at the girls as he placed his hand over the muffin, the pulled it away, revealing a duplicate muffin. Each girl gasped as if it were the most incredible thing in the world, and grabbed for their separate muffin with wild eyed greed.

Harry had watched as the matriarch entered, his entire concentration on making it seem like he hadn't noticed her at all. He was hoping that he could manage to irritate her, as she'd managed to irritate him, by not talking to her at all. He had a million questions that didn't seem right to ask Xander, mostly because the guy was so obviously un-magical. Not that Harry cared one way or the other, the guy was anything but inferior, he'd proved his own worth by being able to keep this band of very different people together. That took a special personality and a separate gift of love and loyalty. And just the way Xander moved, Harry could tell he'd been in some nasty situations and come out on top. Harry just knew that he needed to speak with Buffy. Buffy would have the answers he needed, like what were Slayers exactly? Could they be used to assist the wizarding world? Was an alliance possible? Necessary? And how come every time she looked at him, her eyes automatically went to the illusion spell on his forehead?

* * *

The assorted girls had either left for school or started training in the basement or out in the yard as soon as the food had all been consumed. Sitting at the table with the piles of breakfast plates decimated, Harry felt a bit like a tired General after a bloody war; all his soldiers fallen. 

Xander happily munched on the last piece of bacon before getting up and grabbing some plates to take back to the kitchen.

"Don't bother," Harry waved away the helping hand.

"Nope, no bother… he who cooks does not clean according to house rules."

"I mean, here, stand back a second," Harry grabbed the dishes from Xander and placed them back on the table. He was tired, but he still had enough juice to clean up a kitchen. Taking out his wand, because he found he was just tired enough to need a bit of focus, he muttered an incantation under his breath and smirked when the clean plates elicited the same awed silence as the entire creation of breakfast had. He stacked the plates carefully according to size and with another wave of his wand sent them flying into the kitchen and their respective cupboards.

"Wow. That magic stuff certainly comes in handy sometimes," Xander commented, though now that he was thinking about it…

"What?" Harry asked as Buffy and Xander both eyed him as if something weren't quite right.

"We've known some witches in our time. They don't do frivolous things like that because they say there are limits…" Xander started, thinking mostly of black eyes and scary power bolts from his best friend's hands.

"I'm not a witch. I'm a wizard; I thought I already told you that."

"As far as we know they're pretty much the same thing," Buffy shrugged. "Only you're a guy."

"No, because a male witch is still a witch; though technically a female wizard is a witch… you know, I've never really thought about it before," Harry frowned. "I'm sure I could get 'Mine to explain the difference…" he scratched his forehead with the tip of his wand, a habit Moony had exclaimed over more than once. Like sticking his wand in his back pocket, Harry supposed. He shrugged, "Maybe you're thinking of a Wicca-witch…The most important difference between Wicca's and Wizards, I suppose, is that while a Wicca has to gather energy from around her, and has to be more careful considering the source, a wizard uses the energy that is in his body. The more one can naturally absorb, the more one can naturally use. There really is no danger of accidental corruption because what I use is cleansed automatically. Therefore, my magic does what I tell it to do, because I have the self awareness to be able to use it correctly… Or I think that's what Madame Pomfrey was trying to explain when she was explaining about the whole broom stick debacle."

"Broomstick debacle?" Xander wanted the rest of the story.

"Come on, office," Buffy grabbed Xander's sleeve and tugged him along, a pointed look at Harry had him following. "We need to talk shop, away from prying ears and nosy eyes."

"I think that's mixing metaphors," Harry grinned when he heard a gasp and saw a flutter of pink hair duck around a corner. "But I get it."

* * *

thank you all for your lovely reviews!! it just brightens my entire day that someone acctually reads my stuff and thinks i'm not just wasting my time. its going slow because i have a few details to iron out. fortunatly i have an actual idea how this is all going to end, unlike my other fics, which are still up in the air cause i have no clue how to end them... o well... i'll figure it out somehow. 


	9. where did the dark lord go?

of course we go to the flashback to find out what happened to Harry before he was in Cleveland... Keep in mind, he's not telling the Scooby's all of this, he wasn't there for some of it, likely unconcious for alot of the rest. We can safely assume he's left out alot of gory details while explaining... well, with that in mind, enjoy!_

* * *

_

_The start of seventh year, all sitting in the courtyard awaiting their owls…_

_Hermione, of course, reading a book, leaning against Ron's back as he leaned against hers, while matching his chess wits against Harry. _

_Harry sat against the fountain, once again wondering why he'd bet anything on the game when Ron was still the undisputed chess champ of Hogwarts. Ron idly skipped his knight around a corner and swiped a priest while Harry could only grumble in disgust and anxiously hope that Hedwig would swoop down and knock all the pieces over. _

_He'd been sleeping a lot lately, when he wasn't studying fervently to pass the NEWTS. They'd all decided to take them, considering all the work they'd done in the past few months to destroy what they could of Voldemort's alliances, taking a standardized school test couldn't be that difficult. Or that's what Hermione said, and Harry agreed, hiding his own basic reasons from his friends. _

_He could only think of one thing left to do, but before he did it, he was curious. He wondered if, after all his adventures and near death experiences, he really ever learned anything at all at Hogwarts. _

_He whispered a sigh of relief as three shadows flittered down to the courtyard, while none of them landed on the chess set, Hermione's Angela did peck off Ron's king before depositing her letter and flying off again. _

_"Bloody 'ell!" Ron muttered as he carefully took the letter from Pig's outstretched claw. _

_Harry grinned as he opened his own letter and handed Hedwig an owl treat as she settled on his shoulder. _

_"Well… I didn't do as well in potions as I hoped, but with Snape's grading scale still being used…" Harry muttered as he looked up, and stopped when he saw Hermione's shocked expression gracing a brilliantly red face._

_"Mione?" Ron reached over to offer comfort when she jumped to her feet and crowed, like Peter Pan almost, making Ron fall over on his back. _

_"I got highest marks!! On EVERYTHING!" she danced around the courtyard, using a few moves Harry knew she hadn't learned from the wizarding world. Ron blushed beet red as she shook her butt and twirled around. _

_"How'd you do?" Harry asked his friend, who tore his eyes away from Hermione's gyrating form with difficulty. _

_"Good, I passed everything, got high marks on DADA, History, Charms, and Muggle studies. Dad'll be pleased."_

_"That's nice, I got high marks on DADA, History, Charms, Arithromancy…" Harry grinned as Hermione suddenly realized that maybe her enthusiasm was a bit vocal. She grinned sheepishly and hurried to sit back next to her friends. _

_"Congrats Mione, it couldn't have happened to a better witch," Harry let her red face return to normal before he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "That's for helping me study while I was in traction." He chuckled a bit over the roses that once again tinted her cheeks. _

_"Off my girl mate," Ron growled with a grin, gathering Hermione into his arms and pushing Harry away. Harry grinned too, sharing a look with Ron that spoke volumes in a single second. _

_While Harry had been sweating over battling death eaters all summer, Ron had been sweating over more than such mundane concerns. He'd poured his soul out to Harry after one particularly brutal fight, which landed Harry in the infirmary with a broken arm and Ron with a sprained ankle and a nice sized gash over his forehead. _

_He was desperately in love with their frizzy haired friend, and was certain that she would never take him seriously. Of course, he'd been a little disoriented at the time, so he was completely unaware that Hermione was in the next bed over, listening to every slurred, neurotic word as the nurse applied a burn salve to a wand strike on her shoulder. Harry had been in between them, and done nothing to stop Ron's running mouth, because as long as he didn't know Hermione was there, the feelings where real and uncensored. He'd watched since their first year, how Ron was around Hermione. He'd been aware of his friend's feelings from the first; he just didn't know how to get the red-head to fess up. _

_Now it was out of both of their hands, as Ron's voice faltered and finally fell to silence, Hermione stood up. Ron looked at her, only then realizing his mistake, and was frozen. Harry had let out a relieved breath as Hermione only walked across the room and pulled Ron's privacy shade around them, blocking out everything else. The slight smile on her face had been hint enough. _

_And now, with their final school tests behind him, the slight smile was all he needed to tell him that he was right. He needed to finish this, and he needed to do it now. _

_"Hermione, Ron, you'll be careful and happy right?" Harry stood carefully and ignored the confused look on Ron's face. He smiled at his best friend, and let his guard down completely as he looked into Hermione's eyes. _

_"Harry," she saw what he'd been hiding for months, the ultimate knowledge of what he must do to win. She'd known it ever since she found that passage, in the book at her feet. She'd read it over and over, poured through every reference material available, desperately searching for something else. She couldn't even hide it from Harry; he'd been the one to give her the book. _

_She hated, for a split second, that he'd done this right when she was so happy, so content. But she knew that he did it for that reason. He didn't want her to look at this day as nothing more than a painful memory. He'd waited for the bitter-sweet ending. _

_"There has to be another way…" her voice broke, Ron frowned, not following the conversation but knowing it wasn't good._

_"Harry…" he started, looked back at Hermione, and then swore as he heard the crack behind him. "What the hell?" you couldn't aparate onto or of off school grounds… but Harry was gone. He turned to Hermione and shook her shoulders, panic setting in as he noticed the bright, sparkling tears on her face. He began crying as she keened, tears pouring down his face as he demanded an explanation. Kids, who had been so happy just a few minutes before, watching Hermione's antics around the courtyard, gathered around in confusion, wanting to offer help but not knowing what was wrong. They'd all heard the sound of displaced air, then the wailing of Hermione's tears, and Ron was shouting at the top of his lungs for someone to explain it all to him. _

_"He's gone!" Hermione lunged around Ron's neck and held on to him as if to a life-line. "He's gone to fight Voldemort himself, Ron, he figured it out and he went without us." She sobbed into his neck as his arms encircled. _

_"Leave us alone!" Ron shouted around him; got to his feet and swung Hermione into his arms. The students scattered as he carried her up to the tower and into a study nook in the corner. Tears wiped from his cheeks he struggled to pull himself together. _

_"He will be a willing sacrifice, not one un-consenting and torn from the world with a black fate. Hallowed death, blood magic at its purest, how it was meant to be used. He found it months ago, just a single reference, in a bloody history."_

_"Sacrifice? Blood magic? Hermione…"_

_"Blood magic didn't start out evil. Magic in any form is not pure one side or the other. How you use the magic is what determines its attributes." She was not calm, but she was speaking, explaining, and she had to pull herself together enough to let him know. She had always been rather good at that. _

_"But…sacrifice?" Ron's voice was tiny, he'd settled Hermione in a plush red chair, then sank to the floor to lay his head in her lap._

_"I think he's going to trick Voldemort into thinking he'd been captured. Then when Voldemort kills him, he'll probably use some extravagant ceremony to absorb Harry's powers into himself. It will all be very dark magic, and when Harry turns from being a victim into being a Sacrifice, the dark magic will turn on its creator, and Voldemort will be no more…" Hermione could only try and take deep breaths to calm herself down. This had been Harry's choice; he hadn't waited for her to find anything else. She would still look, because she knew, horribly she knew, that Voldemort would take his time. "That's the theory anyway." She hiccupped as tears continued to fall. _

_Ron wrapped his arms tighter around her, leaning his head into the hollow between her throat and her breasts. She let her head droop down onto his, and her hair hid them both. Hermione, for once, too numb to think. Ron's head, however, was just beginning to crank._

_The rest of the Gryffindors found them there, after dinner, they'd fallen into an exhausted sleep in each others arms.

* * *

__Hermione had been right. It took several months for Harry to be broken to the Dark Lords satisfaction. Months of torture, of spitting defiantly in eyes and having boots applied to cracked ribs over and over again; months of curses, of tests, of horrible nightmares and worse awakenings. If Harry hadn't gone at least a little mad he wouldn't have survived. _

_McNair, one of Voldemort's wretched followers, liked to use muggle implements while cooing his witticisms in Harry's ear. He was a little upset that Harry wasn't as afraid of basic tools as his other victims were, but Harry knew what a wrench was, and what it was usually used for. Of course, any tool of heavy metal could, and would crush knee caps with equal skill. And there were several different uses for kitchen knives, Harry was quite certain though, that he would never have thought to use them so inventively. _

_He was shown memories of Voldemort's; of his victims, most notably Cedric and his parents, Sirius and Dumbledore. Sometimes they would magic the cell to look like his room in the tower, or the room in his uncle's house. They kept placing him into smaller and smaller rooms. Some of them he couldn't even move in, the largest being about as small as the cupboard under the stairs. They stopped that when they realized that he was actually more comfortable, calm in tight spaces. After all, if all four walls of a room are touching you, nothing else can._

_They chained him when they thought he'd fight, when they thought he wouldn't. It was rare for him to relax in a normal sitting position, his hands by his sides instead of hanging from metal brackets. Sometimes he was alone in his cell, sometimes he wasn't. They liked to torture people in front of him, he would scream curses at them until his voice gave out, then cut on him until he could no more than whimper. It seemed as if it would never end, then they would leave. And Harry, being who he was, tried to reassure, tried to offer hope. They would get to the point where the other captive might begin to trust Harry… then they would come back and more often than not, kill the poor fool, with Harry crying in the background. _

_When, finally, on Halloween night he was brought to the Dark Lord, he was a pale shade of his former self. Never having been large to start with, he was a skeleton, criss-crossed with half-healed scars and fresh burns. His long brown hair hung damply in front of dull green eyes that had lost their glasses in a particularly spectacular struggle a bare month ago when he struggled to save an inmates life, he almost succeeded too. _

_They tied him to his parents headstone, saying that it needed to be a family affair, and while they were at it, why not invite his friend over to join in the happy occasion? Harry puzzled over that, until he saw what it was that Voldemort held._

_"He mostly got away. He is a sneaky little red-headed blood-traitor, is he not?" The eyeball was resting gently in the palm of his hand, a little pool of blood gathered as Harry focused on the murky yellowish pupil. There was just enough aura surrounding it to have Harry's breath hitching. He took a deep breath and screamed to the heavens that Voldemort was going down. If it was the last thing he'd do. He struggled like a madman, and finally succeeded in breaking the straps that held him to his doom. A dozen death-eaters pulled him back and held him down while Voldemort flung the offending eyeball away, and kneeled over Harry's body. Harry stopped struggling as the knife was flung up; he released his intentions, his core, his self awareness that was his magic, as the knife was brought down in a single, horrible swoop. _

_Whatever effect Voldemort was looking for as the metal pierced flesh, it was not the brilliant white light that flashed from Harry's breast. He pushed back and tried to escape the glare, covering over his eyes with his arm he wailed as the light burned everything it touched. The thirty-six death-eaters in attendance died almost instantly the second the light reached them, while Voldemort could only scream. His arms disintegrated first, his hair dried up and flaked away as his skin crumbled and cracked. In a few precious minutes the only thing left of Voldemort was a cold, black heart. A few minutes after that, not even the heart remained.

* * *

_

"I surprised myself by waking up," Harry told Buffy as he sipped the first decent cup of tea he'd had since coming to the states. It had been hidden in the library, along with a fine twelve year scotch and a coffee maker. He'd edited a bit for consumption (more than he'd liked to, he was afraid he made it sound like a walk in the park), and because they really didn't need to know that Voldemort thought it had been funny to cut off his toes and regrow them after infections of all sorts had set in. When it rained he still walked funny. "In the cemetery, I woke up and somehow discovered I had the power to aparate, so I really acted without thinking and found myself in the cupboard under the stairs."

"Excuse me?" Xander was confused, "What cupboard?"

"My aunt and uncle, who I grew up with, had a cupboard that was my room for the first years of my life. I guess I got used to small, dark places again, and for some reason I felt safe there. Anyway, the Ministry had been keeping an eye on the place, knew that someone had crossed the blood wards, and sent for McGonagall. She found me, they healed me, and found all sorts of fun complications… I basically spent the rest of the school year in the infirmary at school." He skipped over the part where they realized that in order to heal him they'd have to knock him out…

* * *

_He tended to freak around any sort of needles or drugs. And for some reason his magic couldn't be broken by the teachers. Even a combined force could not force down his shields. He wouldn't swallow anything, so he needed an iv, if he woke with one in, he'd rip it out. He wouldn't eat anything unless it was brought to him by Hermione. He wouldn't look at Ron until the red-head had shouted at him and popped out the eyeball his brothers had made for him. He'd made a joke out of it somehow, and gotten Harry to really laugh for the first time in almost four months. After that things started to get better. Harry could go for hours without thinking about it, then days, then a week or two. He was allowed out of the infirmary a few times, cautiously at first, and then with greater frequency after the students had all been warned to stay out of his way. _

_ The end of the school year came, Hufflepuff won the house cup, and Harry was finally sleeping in the tower room with his friends. He saw his friends away, and moved into Sirius's old house, intent on redecorating. _

_ When he allowed his friends back into his life, on a more permanent basis, they found themselves in a beautifully reconditioned house. No longer was it a secret on the streets, and the cheery blue violets in the boxes out front went a long way to reassure Hermione that their Harry was on the mend. Even so, she paused subtly after he let them in. _

_ He laughed at her, and pointed to the neat white wall on her left. "Mother Dearest has left the building." He could only shake his head at her questions in amusement. "I merely gave her a choice. After that she practically unstuck herself. She would have walked out if she'd had legs." But he wouldn't go into it. _

_ The house had been repainted, refurnished, and flowers bloomed in every room. He seemed content, so when he told them what he was going to do, only Ron looked unsurprised and that was because he hadn't really been paying attention. _

_ "Hunting down death-eaters… bloody-good. About time somebody did," he mused as he played with a little cat statue, "They're making a mess of things when people just want to go about… death-eaters! Bloody-ell!" he did a double take when he caught Harry's grin and just managed not to bobble the cat. _

_ "I'm really the only one who knows how many there are still out there, and while I can appreciate the Ministry wanting me to stay out of their way in this regard, they have no jurisdiction outside of England. I'm not going to clean up the streets here, the Aurors have their jobs well under control; America, Japan, hell even Australia, they're going to have some problems in their areas for a while. After all, there were a lot of them." _

_"Do you want any help?" Hermione asked primly as she looked around the room. Shacklebolt and Moody nodded agreement, as did every other Member of the _ _Phoenix_

_"I'll let you know. And I wanted to thank you all, for everything you've done for me," Harry took a deep breath and sat cross-legged on the floor. "I wanted to let you know for sure, that I'm going to be ok." _

_Holding his hands out in front of him he muttered a short incantation and showed to them what he'd been terrified of for so long. He showed them the last moments of Voldemort's life, and the cold hard heart that had shrunken into nothing until a brilliant white light shone from a tiny diamond like gem. The knife in Harry's chest had been yanked away, but the blood still gushed from the wound, until the gem planted itself into the gaping hole and knit the flesh around. What was left of Voldemort, after the magic had cleansed itself, was buried in Harry's heart. _

_"I had to work it out, for myself, I wasn't sure I could be safe around people, if people could be safe around me. I have his magic inside of me. I've spent the last year and a half trying to get over it, and if you all hadn't been here to back me, I don't think I'd ever gotten used to it. I'm in control. I know who I am, and I know what I'm capable of. I know, without a doubt that I'll never turn into that miserable excuse for existence. Because I have something that Voldemort never had." He ducked his head as he banished the light, and lifted it when he felt Hermione's arms around his shoulders. He opened his eyes to see the sentimental tears on all his friends' faces as he hugged Hermione back. _

_"I have all of you." _

* * *

a little sappy, yes, i know. but i think it fits well into Harry's character, and though i know its a bit AU, i figured, hell its my story i'll do what i like. if you have any suggestions or questions, don't be afraid to review!! 


	10. dreams in the middle of the day

so did i mention when i started this that i hadn't yet read Half Blood Prince?? Well, we've fixed that in the past day. It took me five hours to get through that thing!! And i realized while i did that i didn't recall half of Order of the Phoenix, so i'll have to reread that... sorry if i've confused anyone with the past few chapters, i did miss out on some stuff that i should have mentioned. I really should have read the last book before attempting to post. But i think i can fix my mistakes in the next few postings! what i have in mind will acctually not change, just be tweaked. quotes in this chapter come from Dumbledore (good thing i read it, cause he really added mood to it!) and Corinthians 10 & 13. enjoy.

* * *

Harry relaxed against the couch with his tea, still hot thanks to a small charm, as Buffy took up the explanation. Xander quoted, "One girl who stands against the demons," and muttered that it couldn't possibly sound right because he wasn't a middle aged British man. 

"Just doesn't have the same punch from a northern Cali drawl," he shrugged and let Buffy continue.

"Though it's not just one girl now; all the Slayer potentials have been activated. So we're setting up schools and half-way houses. We still haven't found everyone, that's what Willow and Kennedy are doing right now, training some of the girls who're sensitive to magic to sense them. Can you do that?"

"You glow Buffy," Harry smirked as she frowned. "If you're trying to sneak up on a wizard that's bad, but if you're trying to find others like you it could be good. The others don't burn as brightly as you do though."

"Could I block it?"

"I'm sure, with a few lessons, you could learn to block your aura. You have a well trained will."

"That's a pretty way of saying she's stubborn," Xander smirked.

"Well, yes, but it's true. If you stick with it, I'm sure you could even learn a few spells. You're not a squib." Harry stood as he considered it. "In fact…"

"No. One impossible job in a life-time thank you," Buffy jumped in. "I don't need to learn spells and hoodo."

"Not you Buffy," Harry chided gently. "I'm pretty sure that some of the younger girls have the power to be trained in charms and the like. I could test them for you if you want."

Xander had to laugh at the expression on Buffy's face. She'd been deflated by his carelessly pushed aside objection. She was used to having people pile things on top of her and expect her to deal and learn. Harry just dismissed her before she could be pressed upon.

"Fine, be helpful. Cook, clean and teach witchcraft!" Buffy flung her hands into the air, "it's not like I'm in charge or anything."

"Buffy, I'll only do what you want me to. You did invite me to stay here. It'd be silly for you not to take advantage of, well, an advantage." Harry leaned against the side of the fireplace and yawned. "But if you've nothing else for me, I'd like to get some sleep."

When Harry left Buffy sat next to Xander on his chair arm and pouted. Xander loved it when she did that, stuck her bottom lip out and thought.

"He seems and okay guy," he started cautiously.

"Check with Giles, would you? If he's from Britain, Giles will know where to go for the info we need."

"Background checks to make sure he isn't a loony, recommendations from this Ministry he talked about…" Xander counted on his fingers.

"Just find out everything you can. And call Willow home, I want her in on this magic stuff. K?"

* * *

Harry snuggled up in the large warm bed, having left a slight charm on the blankets before he went downstairs for breakfast. He despised cold sheets above all else, having little to do but shiver all those months, surrounded by cold stone. He'd spent hours, it seemed, talking to those two. And as much as he wanted to trust them, and he did, he was still cautious enough to catch the slight scent of spying. Somebody else in this house knew magic, or knew enough of magic that made it easy to sneak. He suspected the pink haired girl, she had been the only one not to flinch or act uneasy about breakfast that morning. 

She looked familiar to him, as if he'd seen her before. But as he tried to grasp onto that feeling, maybe a picture in his mind, he fell asleep.

_:Rejoice in Truth:_

"_Love, Harry, you can love. Which, given everything that has happened to you, is a great and remarkable thing. You are still too young to understand how unusual you are, Harry."_

_:Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things…:_

_The tenth time the burning pain fell across his shoulder blades, he gasped in breath and swore gently. The first time in three days he'd made a sound. McNair smiled grimly as the Chosen One shivered against cold stone that pressed into his chest in direct contrast to the heat against his back._

_:Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. :_

"_But Harry, never forget that what the prophecy says is only significant because Voldemort made it so…he made you the person who would be most dangerous to him!"_

_:For we know in part, and prophecy in part.:_

"_What did that single glass orb say, Mr. Potter? My Lord is most anxious to know the particulars…"_

"_It said…" Harry gasped once, squeezing shut his eyes on a scream of pain, unloosened as McNair gently stroked his sweaty, bleeding back. His lips next to Harry's ear, warm breath, stinking of mildew and rotten teeth. "It said to fuck off and brush your teeth." _

_:But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.:_

"_Don't act like a sulky child now Potter," his hand pressed firmly against the ragged crisscrossed marks. He held back a giggle, but just barely. _

"_When I was a child I spoke as a child…"_

"_What was that Potter? Finally going to answer me?" he leaned in to hear Harrys whipering._

"_I understood as a child, I thought as a child."_

"_Potter?"_

"_But when I became a man I put away childish things…" Harry began giggling, his forehead against the stone as McNair bit his lip, worried that perhaps, he'd broken his toy.

* * *

_

Deep in a dark tomb, mumbling to himself as he tossed under the thin, careworn blanket, a large man lay dreaming of the past. The sun shone high in the sky, he flinched away from it when it broke the horizon, but deliberately stayed to watch it rise as his new croonies had to slink deeper inside the crypt to avoid becoming ash. He'd watched vindictively, knowing that the brat was out there and doing quite well for himself. McNair had lost more that enough of his army that night. He would get some rest, and they would make Potter and his friends pay when his troops could stalk the night. They would avoid the slayers, he had no wish to loose the rest of them, but Cleveland was a busy city in the night. He had no doubts he could raise an army that even the Chosen One would have difficulty beating. But for now, he slept, and he dreampt.

"_For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part. But then shall I know, even as also I am known," Harry turned his head and caught McNair's eye. _

_He tried to flinch away from the madness he saw there. He tried to wretch his gaze from the boys, but to no avail. Harry dug into his mind, brought out every shameful secret, every plan, every thought. He furiously tried to back away, to shield his mind. He ripped apart mental walls, watched McNair's childhood as the boy found his niche in the world. Young McNair liked to watch things bleed; from the very beginning… even before Voldemort. He butchered the neighbors cat, it was a muggle so nobody cared. His father patted his head and approved of the neat work, pointing out small mistakes and began the tutoring. He killed dogs, watched as he drove his classmates insane with whispered comments and gently delivered threats. He caused four of the children in his school into therapy. Three of them committed "suicide" with rusty kitchen knifes or a step out of the third story window. None of them had been in his class, the teachers never suspected. When he was called to Hogwarts he kept a low profile, but was always in the shadow of Riddle. He'd known what to do with a man that insane, and smart enough to hide it. The Dark Lord just took that talent and ran with it. He enjoyed McNairs talents with a carving knife, and McNair never ran out of warm, blood-filled bodies around his master. _

"_And now abiedith faith, hope and love, these three… but the greatest of these," as he whispered to McNair, his strength gave out. His eyes blinked and McNair fell back toward the door, knocking frantically on it to make the gaurds let him out. He was shaking, having never been examined like that, except by his master. But he'd never felt that shining in his mind. He'd cherished the dark caress as Voldemort systematically riffled his thoughts; it was as if he were a kitten being stroked by a large warm hand. Harry's intrusion was clear as glass and just as sharp. And as he was let out of the dungeon room he heard Harry's insistent quoting._

"_The greatest of these… is love."

* * *

__"I would thank you Harry, not to make my men run from you in fear. How ever did you accomplish it?" the snake like hissing under his breath, the smooth way he almost danced into the room, Harry despised these traits, he'd hated them since the first moment he noticed the strange elegance in Voldemort's movements at the graveyard. _

_He was speaking in parlsetounge, of course, so his snake could understand them. It had been the one thing Harry couldn't find, the only one that was anywhere near Voldemort. _

_"Hello Nagini," Harry nodded to the snake politely, ignoring Voldemort completely. His guards had loosened his chains, so he sat in the middle of the room, cross legged, straight up to avoid touching his back to anything. The snake looked up at him, utterly shocked that anyone would greet him. _

_"Hello Harry." _

_"Did you know, Nagini, that the first time I really dreamed about Voldemort as anything but a voice in my head, a flash of green light, it was through your eyes?" _

_"Issss that truth?" _

_"Yes." _

_"Well, isn't this interesting. I'm sure you'd like to catch up," Voldemort twitched his fingers and stalked forward to grab Harry's chin. Wrenching his face up until they were almost parallel to each other, the snake wrapped around Voldemort's neck, his long body hanging morbidly from his shoulder. "Tell me the whole prophecy Harry." Mildly amused because Harry had shut his eyes, he didn't notice that Harry's chained hands where gently rising toward his companion. _

_"The diary's gone. The ring's gone. The necklace is gone…" _

_"What?" _

_"The cup is gone. The dagger I found, I destroyed with glee…" _

_"My…" his face twisted up in rage, his nails dug into Harry's cheeks drawing blood that dripped onto Harry's fists, which clung with determination to a snakes thick neck. _

_"I speak unto wise men, judge ye what I say," Harry let his eyes snap open as his fists cracked the neck, Voldemort froze as he felt the snake go limp around him. "Even as I please all men, in all things, not seeking mine own profit, but the profit of many that they may be saved." _

_The hours that followed where bloody; cold and wretched. The rage that consumed the Dark Lord had the world weeping in fear. Dark clouds and vicious storms swirled amongst the cities of __Europe__. Not one person was warmed that night. Two friends paused in their search and huddled in each others arms, trying desperately for comfort that would not come. And in the morning Harry could only cry dry, miserable tears as the Dark Lord stormed from the room, blood dripping thickly from his robes. _

* * *

He pulled himself from the dreams with a horrified gasp. It had been months since he'd last found himself a prisoner of his own recollections, and he didn't like the feeling of falling back into that pit. He sat up, sticky with sweat he began to curse when he noticed that Xander had fallen asleep in the bed next to the windows. He'd taken off his eye patch, and really for the first time, Harry noticed the caved in eyelid. It hadn't been damaged really, the heavy scarring around Ron's fake eye still had a tendency to give Harry bad moments. He sighed in relief, mostly because once the new eye was grown Xander would probably have large gaps of time when he forgot he'd lost it in the first place. Harry knew what it was like to walk around with a constant reminder of loss, he fingered the scar above his eye and double checked the glamour that kept it hidden.

Getting to his feet he slid into the bathroom and conjured his wash stuff from his trunk. Thirty minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist as he shaved the slight stubble from his chin, Xander stepped into the open bathroom door and leaned against the jamb. Yawning mightily he crossed his arms and watched as Harry ran his finger over the slight hair growth and wherever he touched became smooth. He blinked a couple times then grinned.

"You gotta teach me how to do that," he snickered as Harry met his eye in the mirror.

"Closer than a razor," Harry shrugged, "I hate looking unkempt. My hair grows how it likes, never been able to tame it, but at least I can keep from looking like a hobo."

"Some girls like the five o'clock shadow," Xander defended himself.

"Right," clearly Harry was skeptical.

"If I told you how many girls think I look like Bruce Campbell…" Xander merely shrugged, as if it were self-explanatory.

"Who?" Harry asked as he splashed warm water on his clean face and combed his wet hair back with his fingers.

"The undisputed king of B movies… we'll have theater night," Xander promised. "You'll love it."


	11. moms

welcome to the disclaimer! this american pie institution known as parental guidance will cleanse any hint of sarcasm or inuendo from the lyrics that may acctually make you think! ect.ect... tbc on some cd i can't remember right now... anyway, i don't own buffy or harry or their respective storys. that being said... enjoy!

* * *

While Xander took a shower Harry sat on his bed and conjured a smooth glass ball from his trunk. While he hated divination with a passion, he'd found it easier to concentrate his thoughts through the mundane glass. He focused on frizzy hair and a determined grin, and then laughed as Hermione answered him through her own glass she kept on a chain around her neck. It was something like a magnifying glass, really large enough mount if she didn't want the weight wearing her down, but she tended to keep it on her person while researching. 

"Hello love, what are you up to?"

"Harry, you were supposed to check up with me hours ago," Hermione shook her head at him and tutted. "Don't make me worry like that."

"Sorry, I got caught up, then fell asleep."

"You had time to clean yourself up, I see, before contacting me. I would hope I were more important to you that a shower Harry."

"It really depends…" Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the look on her face. "No I didn't have entrails draped across my body again. I still remember the shrieking you treated me to when I tried to hug you."

"You did that on purpose," Hermione pouted.

"Of course I did. Anyway, I have a sort of roommate at the moment and I didn't feel like having a convo he could overhear."

"Muggle then?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of? Is he a squib?"

"No. He's one hundred percent normal, but he knows a lot about the other side of things. In fact, he's babysitting a house full of Slayers."

"Slayers? Plural as in more than one?"

"That's what I said," Harry shrugged as he leaned against the headboard, letting the orb float in front of him. "Is that unusual?"

"Harry, there is only supposed to be one Slayer. Honestly, you never paid attention in anything but DADA. It's actually mentioned in "Hogwarts: A History." I would think you'd retain something besides curses and jinxes."

"I performed a healing spell rather miraculously the other day I'll have you know. And I didn't need to remember anything in that bloody book, that's what I had you around for."

"Harry, I think you're being deceived. I don't like it, you need to get out while you still can."

"Don't be so tense Hermione Granger," a wisp of pink fluttered around the doorway as Harry looked up at the quiet voice. "Mr. Potter." Mirabel nodded once, and smiled gently as she heard Xander swear in the bathroom. "He's always knocking things down. We'll talk later, Auntie says hi." And with that warning Harry hissed a goodbye to Hermione and stowed the glass away just as Xander walked out. Wet hair, unsnapped jeans and a scowl for whatever he managed to bang his toe on, he pulled a clean white tee from his drawers before snagging on his patch.

Harry, on the other hand, was still blinking in dumb shock. Of course he'd recognized her. That bubblegum pink hair could only be related to the infamous Tonks.

* * *

_The first few days after the big Sunnydale cave-in where chaotic with people from all over helping, settling residents in homes, school gyms and public shelters. The Slayers and their friends all continued on to LA after being checked out by local authorities and given permission to leave. Staying in Angels new office building was a little awkward for most of them, considering how many demons wandered the halls, so Buffy was more than a little anxious to get them all out again. She called a meeting to decide the fate of the new Slayers. _

"_Wow, Buff, conference room… never thought we'd actually have a meeting in a conference room." Xander scoffed at the wide open professionally public room, then turned around to take a seat, accidentally knocking over a chair. He was still getting used to the eye patch. Without saying a word Mirabel, her shiny pink cap of hair swaying as she bent, retrieved the roller-chair and offered it to Xander. She blushed a little when he thanked her, and sat next to him as he settled. The rest of the group followed suit, until everyone was sitting and staring down at Buffy, who'd yet to take a chair. Obviously they expected her to take the head, and she still wasn't sure that she should be the one in it._

"_Come on B, take the bitch seat. We all know you deserve it," Faith smirked as Buffy glared at her. She shrugged, "Just say'in, you're the boss. We'd probably all be dead now if it weren't for you, as it is, you're boss."_

"_Here, here!" Xander slammed his fist down on the table and lead the girls in a rousing cheer. With their encouragement Buffy sat, and took a deep breath. _

"_So we all know that there are more of us out there. I think that the first order of business should be how we find these girls, and what do we do with them once we do? Any suggestions?" _

_After a fun filled five and a half hours Buffy had enough to think about to call a lunch break. After instructing everyone to be back in two hours she asked Xander to order pizza and sat down with her notes. _

_The most intriguing suggestion had come from Sam. The punky slayer had suggested that groups of Slayers be sent to each Hellmouth, and that more experienced Slayers and Watchers (once the new council got up and running) to be stationed there to train the newly developed Slayerettes. Along with that note there were several training programs and living arrangements suggested with some more personal than others. Lily for instance, wanted to go home. Since her home was in Cleveland, an active hellmouth, it made sense. But she was too new to go alone, and Buffy was in two minds of letting her go with a smaller group or a larger group. Sure she survived Sunnydale, but she could because of her back-up. Janice suggested teaming up with Finn's military guys. That was a definite no… maybe. She shouldn't push out a potentially powerful resource because of her own issues. Same goes with her Faith issues. She figured she could handle Faith, but she wasn't too sure of the US military. So she shelved the comment and promised herself she'd look at it with a clear mind… later. Much later. _

_After pepperoni pizza and a million cups of coffee, Buffy made the decision that was slapping her right in the face. And waited for her little Slayers to join her.

* * *

_

"So we decided to base ourselves near the largest Hellmouth, and that training groups would go out with experienced Slayers to visit other Hellmouth's, to keep an eye on things. Willow and her witch groupies would go and try to find new Slayers while the new Watcher's council is set in motion."

"Sounds reasonable," Harry commented as he piled lunch meat on a piece of mushy white bread. It was five in the afternoon when he'd roused, hungry and curious. After taking his shower and chatting with Xander a while, he'd hunted down Buffy and asked about Slayers, what they did, how they had the power, and why they were settled in Cleveland, of all places. "Not that its not a fabulous city, I mean, Tower City, Indian's ball games… ect…" he waved his hand around, not really a fan of baseball.

"Rock and Roll Hall of Fame," Xander put in as he dug into his own sandwich.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly in Cleveland. The Hellmouth is situated in a state park. So a suburb of Cleveland suited, and it just so happened that Mirabel's rich old Uncle Freddy was looking to relocate. The mansion came up for sale and the spunky little one snapped it up before anyone could stop her."

"The little pink haired one? She bought it?" Harry was rich in his own right having two separate inheritances from Sirius and his parents, but it was still hard to wrap his head around, that anyone could just negligently purchase something so huge as a mansion. He also didn't think that Tonks had that much available in ready cash. Now he was wondering why Uncle Freddy suddenly needed a different house? So many shifts of power happened after Voldemorts reign crumbled. But seeing as how Buffy wouldn't have access to that knowledge, he resolved himself to another wait.

"Pixies loaded," Xander shrugged, "which helps out in things like this. Once the councils back to full strength and settles its bank accounts correctly they'll buy the place from her, so all will be well." He didn't mention that Mirabel had wanted to donate it to the cause; he'd refused for all of them, mostly because he didn't want the teenager to be the bank that they sapped of funds just because she was available. Of course, he also imagined that she just wanted her name on a shiny bronze plaque somewhere prominently displayed. She'd grinned when he mentioned it, so he was pretty sure.

"We've got safe-houses set up all over the place, in different high-profile city's, and a number of the girls are almost ready to go set up shop with their own little gaggles of geese." Buffy nodded out the window, to where several girls where practicing down and dirty fighting, while older ones watched over to make sure that while they were fighting, no one got seriously hurt.

"It looks like you're planning well," Harry commented, wistfully wishing that his group could have looked so uncommonly competent with so little planning. Maybe then the Ministry would have taken them seriously.

"We can only try," Xander took a sip of coffee as he watched Mirabel plant a solid foot in Micka's stomach. "And hope it's enough."

Harry noticed with a wince, and cold only hope that Slayer healing was a good as they'd touted it to be. That looked like it hurt. He rubbed his own stomach and tried to forget the sound and sensation of breaking ribs. Mirabel grinned as she helped Micka to her feet. The blond was almost an entire foot taller than the pixie, but the indulgent smile on her face did not bode well for the inattention. She swept a foot under Mirabel's and pounced when she tumbled to the ground. Micka's ponytail was being ripped from her head when a sharp command stopped all the fighting in the yard. Bouncing apart the combatants gathered around the porch door Buffy had opened and called them to. Several flopped down on the ground when she told them to relax; others sat more decorously, but did not nudge the heads of the loungers off their laps.

"Family meeting tonight, eight, get homework done before hand and get something to eat. Dismissed."

With a sharp nod of her head the girls scattered, several into the kitchen to dig up food, others to their rooms to start on essays and math problems.

"She's really good at that, isn't she?" Harry asked Xander as he got things off high shelves for his charges.

"The mom thing?" Xander asked, "yeah, she is."

* * *

disclaimer- offspring i think? 


	12. movies

The library was pretty expansive. A lot of the books had been saved from Sunnydale, some from various private collections, and others recently found on hunting trips. The girls, while away, had strict instructions to locate tomes that might be useful.

Harry curled up in a large, plush red chair, near the fireplace after picking a random book. He'd wait for the minx to locate him, after all it was always easier to let someone find you than go looking for them. The second she sat down at his feet he cast a privacy charm around them and closed his book.

"So I bet you're wondering who I am, since I'm certain I know who you are."

"I might be a death eater in disguise. Its not like I'm not a well known face."

"But nobody ever notices that you try to hide your scar. I must warn you, the glamour's skipped a bit, its bugging Buffy to no end."

"Well crap."

"Yes, well," she shrugged, then looked up at him. Her eyes a pale shade of brown, almost like a shiny penny, stared up and into his. He didn't feel the poking at his shield that would indicate a mental intrusion, he relaxed a tiny bit.

"Your aunt says hi? This aunt named Tonks?"

"Aunt Nymph, Tonks to the Phoenix. She's my godmother. She knows where I'm at and what I'm doing. She helped me get my inheritance and buy the house. She's the only relative I have that still talks to me because I was a squib."

"Was a squib? Because you're not emitting any wizarding aura that I can tell. You're slightly shimmery, like Buffy, but not as strong," he tugged on her hair, "but this says differently. Glamour's like this are directly tied to wizard blood darling. I can't detect a hint."

"When I was called I apparated directly to Sunnydale. I've never taken lessons, and I can't change my form like Auntie, at most I can manipulate my height and hair color. I was never invited to a school, so I went with muggles to a private institute. I haven't contacted them yet, and seeing as how I disappeared straight from the bathroom, in the middle of my shower, I can't imagine how they're taking it."

"You were called? By what?"

"The Need. Once a Slayer dies, another rises in her place, unfortunately I happened to have the ability to do magic, and the need for a slayer popped me there with no input from me, thank you very much. I haven't been able to consciously apparate since."

"I was told there was only one Slayer, Mirabel," Harry sighed, running a hand through his disordered mop of hair. "Why are there so many girls here, all claiming that lucky honor?"

"A very powerful spell," Mirabel leaned her head against his knee and yawned. She'd been working very hard at training, at learning. She was a very good slayer, she knew, and she was only going to get better. Now she had to explain things to Harry, so he wouldn't ruin everything for her, and all she wanted to do was take a nap before the meeting.

"Mirabel, darling, go to sleep," Harry smiled gently and placed his hand over her hair. "We'll talk later, I promise."

"You won't tell on me?" she asked in a very small voice. Harry only leaned down and picked her up, cuddling her in his arms. Ignoring the questioning looks from those slayers studying in the library; he walked her up the stairs and unerringly found himself outside the door to her room.

"You didn't get any sleep last night worrying about this did you?" Harry set her on her feet and touched his forehead to hers before letting the barrier down around them. "Don't worry; I'll keep mums if you will."

"Thanks," she blushed slightly as she yawned again, and left him in the hallway with a slight smile on his face.

* * *

Harry wasn't invited to the meeting, he had a sneaky suspicion that they were talking about him. Instead of sneaking down and maybe using a Weasley favorite to snoop, he decided that he was safe enough in their company. He rolled his eyes as he could swear he heard Mad Eye screaming, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

He took this time, instead, to wander the house. Soon he found himself in a large basement room, an impressive stereo against one wall, the rest of the area filled with weight machines and a large wooden floor, a mirror against one wall. He went across to the stereo and pressed play. It started low, a mechanical beat set to a basic tune. Then as time went on he found his head nodding in time to the beat, and the tune became more complex. He'd never been a particular fan of "rave" or "techno" music, but he acknowledged that the reason for that may be that he'd never had time to explore his own musical leanings. Grabbing a straight pole he whirled it competently enough in time with the thrumming bass, well aware that he was a bare novice compared to the girls who were, even now, exchanging opinions of him. He may have blushed if he'd heard how favorably some of the girls found his butt in his jeans. Feeling rather dapper he swung the pole around in imitation of a movie he'd recently seen. Of course, since he didn't have any opponents he started feeling rather foolish, grunting and jumping around by himself.

Stopping suddenly he turned around, making sure there was no one else in the room he took out his wand and pointed it at himself.

"_Ingemino_ Harry," he muttered with a wicked grin on his face. Stepping a few paces back he bowed to himself, and let the fight begin.

* * *

They had long forgotten the staffs by the time company arrived. Of course, one of Harry's favorite things to do was imitate old movies, so he'd been having a grand old time enchanting his double into different forms and trying out his memory of great fight scenes.

"My name in Indigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die."

"I know Kung-Fu."

"It's not about anger, it's about peace."

"Have you tried the lobby?"

"I'm _not _Bruce"

"Ok, here's the deal meatball, you let me go, I let you live."

"Stop helping me!"

Harry paused for a second, freezing his double in place as he heard the muffled laughter from the staircase. He grinned sheepishly and ruffled his hair as a couple of the girls entered the room. No sign of bubblegum hair, but Mel was standing there, her curly red hair bound in a tail and glossy lips smirking. A few years ago he'd be wondering why she was wearing lip gloss to work out, now he knew just enough about girls to be worried about it.

"Ladies, I was just going to wrap up now, why don't I leave you…" he cleared his throat nervously as Mel stalked forward and patted his bicep. Sometime during the workout he'd shed his sweater, it being too heavy, and he was horribly aware that some of the girls were eyeing him with obvious interest. He wasn't a muscle bound maniac, he'd admitted to himself, but he was in shape because he had to be. In between catching up on movies and fighting death eaters he really had nothing else to do besides practice fighting, magical and non-magically.

"That's all right, it was interesting watching you. That's a really neat trick." She gestured to his double, which was in disguise as an Asian warlord in leather pants.

"Yeah, just fooling around."

"I love that movie," another slayer sat on one of the weight benches and smiled brilliantly. Harry was done for, he was a goof, and he knew it. He loved showing off. With a negligent wave of his wand he illusioned the room to look like the movie scene, complete with Phileous Fogg bound in a wooden crate. As the girls gasped he sneered and sarcastically addressed Harry's double.

"Your threats do not frighten me, nor does your silly bracelet," as the blades popped out of the silver arm cuff the double wore, the illusion swallowed audibly. "All right, it's not silly."

As the rest of the girls giggled furiously a voice echoed down the stairs.

"What's going on down there?"

"Harry's showing off! You've got to see this!" Harry sighed as he heard the clomping down the stairs, more than one set of shoes made that much noise, he wasn't surprised to find himself set in a dozen more eyes.

"I've seen Harry's chest before girls, it's not that impressive," Buffy teased him as she studied the change in décor. "You can turn all this back, right?" she ignored the other girls curious looks. When had their leader seen Harry's chest?

"Of course darling," he needled her as he banished the effects.

"Do another one Harry!" one of the girls clapped.

* * *

The girls were all lined up against one wall, watching with gaping mouths as Harry and his double flung themselves around the room, over obstacles and under various props. Every once in a while they would exchange quips from the movie, the girls would laugh hysterically as they hammed it up.

"You think this wise, boy, crossing blades with a pirate?"

"You threatened Miss. Swan."

"Only a little," his double sneered as Harry huffed and kept on with the script.

Jumping around and swinging a sword around, faking a level of ability he didn't have, he knew the girls were having a good time just as he knew they probably saw the flaws. He really was much better with a staff, and cursed himself for not performing "Bulletproof Monk" instead of "Pirates". But that would have required more duplicates, and he really didn't want to drain himself twice in as many days.

"Who makes all these?" his Jack asked as he pulled another sword. Harry wrenched himself from his musings and answered.

"I do. And I practice with them, three hours a day," the double was about to answer with a mocking blast when Harry suddenly felt a chill against his spine. Freezing his play mate he turned and banished the illusion as the girls groaned. "Something's here." With that casual comment Buffy got to her feet and eyed him curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean someone with a lot of power crossed the wards just now."

"What wards?" Buffy hissed at him. He didn't give her the courteously of even pretending to be embarrassed.

"Wherever I stay gets protection wards, and warnings. I'm a dangerous house guest Buffy; I won't leave this place indefensible. And if a death eater is in the vicinity its likely after me. I want to know. I won't apologize for setting them, but I'm sorry I didn't tell you." That was all Buffy was going to get. Snatching up his sweater Harry made for the stairs, Buffy following after she told the girls to stay downstairs.


	13. wiccan

Xander was opening the door just as Harry reached the top step. Flung back by a pair of skinny white arms, Xander fell back, occupied with the red head in his lap. The only thing that stopped Harry's wand from shooting out a curse was the fact that the girl was laughing while Xander was giggling like a loon, begging her to stop tickling. He writhed on the marble floor; crunching up to get her hands away from his stomach, then stretching out to get his feet away. She attacked each one as it came into reach. In fact, if he hadn't had the girl physically attacking him, Harry would have supposed he'd been caught by a tickling charm, he was laughing so hard.

Buffy shoved past Harry and stopped at Xander's head, her arms crossed sternly over her chest. Her smile, though, belayed her posture. She unbent enough to pull the girl from Xander's stomach and wrapped arms around her instead.

"Hey Willow," Buffy kissed the girls cheek and bent to help Xander up. While she did that Willow's gaze met with Harry's. The power behind her eyes almost left him breathless. It was a vaguely uncomfortable feeling, like ants running up and down his spine. Magic stubbornly clung to her, like it knew she'd rather not have it around, but she needed it. There was not a hint of wizarding blood in the magic signature; though it looked like there was a fair bit of what could be wizarding magic surrounding her. Shields, protection spells from talented witches, would be his guess.

Xander got to his feet and hung his long arms over Willow's shoulders, his chin rested on her head. With Buffy's hand still in hers, the three looked linked, there was a shimmer almost of determination. Harry wondered if he, Hermione and Ron might look like that to others. He got the feeling they'd been through a lot together.

"You must be Harry," Willow detangled herself from the others and held out a hand. Harry, carefully shielded, took it in a light grip. He wasn't sure what kind of tricks she might have up her sleeve, and as their palms touched he felt a brush against his mind. She shrugged as he smirked. Well aware she'd been caught trying to snoop.

"You must have some questions for me, I know I have some for you." He replied diplomatically.

"Why don't we go for a walk in the gardens?" Willow suggested, waving off the objections of her friends. "We're talking magic stuff, you guys'll get so bored you'll pass out. I'll relay important bits later."

"I have no problem with that Miss Willow," Harry turned toward the back of the house, offering his arm.

"We'll be back in a little bit," Willow place her hand in his elbow and lead him toward the back porch. He smiled wickedly at Buffy and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Told you she'd like me."

* * *

Walking in the garden would have been trickier if the moon hadn't been out; it wasn't the most kempt garden he'd ever seen. 

"I think Slayers have black thumbs," Willow muttered as he almost tripped on a random rock, or piece of bark, or root, he wasn't sure.

"You care for the garden when you're here, don't you?" Harry asked, watching as she calmly waved her hand and the path in front of them started to clear itself.

"It calms me, it's a healthy outlet for my magic, yes I do."

"Do you have trouble with finding healthy outlets?" Harry asked. People with too much power often had that trouble, Harry often wondered if he would have that problem if not for the death eaters keeping him on his toes. He didn't know what he would do once they were all gone.

"No, not really, we find ourselves dealing with a major crisis at least once a month." Willow admitted, and then looked up at him, "I suppose you have a way of releasing all your tension as well."

Harry was vaguely put off, he could shrug and deny knowing what she was talking about, but her magic was just foreign enough to him that he couldn't really hide it. Besides, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"It can be difficult, but I find that if I bleed a little each day I'm not doing something big, I can keep it held. Like with your gardens. I cook, I work out, and I do stupid stuff that keeps me entertained. It's just busy stuff, but it keeps me sane." Willow nodded, like she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Harry Potter, you know, I've heard rumors about you." She giggled when he groaned, "I didn't actually think you were real. I heard that you can kill a hundred vampires with a single spell, that you can behead werewolves quicker than a howl, and that after the major fight with the "dark lord" you'd died and dissolved into dust. Apparently there's a store in LA that is selling Potter dust as an aphrodisiac." When Harry did a double take, the oddest expression on his face, she burst out laughing.

"Please tell me you made that up!" he pleaded. She shook her head and sat on a patch of grass. As he joined her she stopped laughing and maneuvered so that they were sitting knee to knee, Indian style.

"You have a good sense of humor Harry; I got the immediate feeling in the hall, that you were good people. Do you mind?" She took his hands in hers and leaned forward. Harry had seen this happen before; it was a kind of pensieve, he'd supposed at the time. Hermione had been sharing information with a Wiccan who had seen death eaters but was unable to tell them anything due to a silence charm. Hermione had seen what the girl had seen, and it had given them valuable insight as to how they operated.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward, his forehead touching hers. He could literally feel some of his shields complain, he let her too close, she was going to know too much of him.

_Calm, I won't watch anything you don't want me to see. If it gets to be too much I'll stop. An it harm none. I take my faith seriously._

_That's a relief. Do I get the same courtesy? _

_You want to see my life? I'll ask my questions, you ask yours. I don't think either of us is going to really enjoy this._

_I'd say you were very astute, but I really think that's obvious._

_And you'd be right._

As they both took deep breaths, Harry felt himself falling, holding himself back with a bare sense of self, he found himself with a feather duster in his hand, shouting at the portrait of Mrs. Black. He knew he was still sitting on the lawn outside the mansion, but he could feel the smooth wooden handle, and the wind from the portrait as it tried to shout him away.

"_You have two options Mrs. Black. Either I remove you from that wall and you go into storage, or I'll burn the entire house down." His voice was reasonable, in direct contrast to the witch's screaming. _

_YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A USURPER!! MY FAMILY IS ALL DEAD! THE BLACK NAME IS NO MORE! YOU FILTHY TRAITOR! MY SON IS DEAD AND HE HAD SHAMED HIS NAME! HIS BLOOD WAS IMPURE! HE DESERVED WHAT HE-_

_"Mrs. Black, one more word about Sirius and I swear on his blood and my own, I will leave nothing of this house but the foundation." Harry could feel his hand shaking as it reached up and gripped the frame._

_YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME! I'LL BE HERE FOREVER!_

"_That's what you think," and with a tug he wrenched the corner from the wall. The portrait sent up a shriek like was never heard before. She screamed at him, about how impossible it was, about how he was nothing but a dirty half breed that wasn't good enough to lick even her traitorous son's boots. Then shrieked again as he ripped off the other bottom corner. The screaming wasn't giving him a headache, but the dark magic that was coursing through his veins as he disabled the sticking charm was making him so ill, it was all he could do to keep his stomach from heaving. As he glared up at Mrs. Black she finally fell silent. Maybe it was that the permanent sticking charm was obviously failing that left her in complete shock, unable to close her mouth from the gaping. Or it was the fact that as he wrenched the third corner away from the wall, his eyes were black as midnight. Suddenly realizing that he needed to back away and calm himself down, Harry tore himself from the hallway and leaned over the kitchen sink to loose his lunch._

_He felt the cold, wet cloth against his forehead and sighed into the white arm that held it. She wiped away the sweat and backed him away from the sink to lean against the wall opposite. _

"_Wotcher Harry," Tonks held him still, until he got a chance to support himself, his knees would not buckle. "I saw that unholy wreck in the hallway. Mrs. Black is still shocked enough she didn't even hiss at me when I walked in."_

"_I got mad Tonks," Harry admitted and sank into the dining room to sit, his head against the table. _

"_You can get mad Harry, you know you can, if you don't you'll just explode." _

"_But if I get too mad I end up…"_

"_You end up using what you got from him," Tonks shrugged and took the seat next to him. She felt rather maternal toward him, after marrying Remus the previous month, and she felt sorry for the mother who'd left him behind so abruptly. Surely she must be watching her son from wherever it was spirits watched, and wept at the miserable expression on his face. "You do realize that it's not the end of the world, having this power." _

"_I feel so angry when I use it, I feel…"_

"_Tainted? Dirty? Hell Harry, everyone would feel that way!" Tonks smacked the back of his head and stunned him into looking at her._

"_But…"_

"_The difference is that you are not going to use this power for anything that's going to hurt people. You don't want to rule the world, you don't have the insane desire to cut people apart just to watch them bleed, you don't have the urge to laugh maniacally and pace while explaining your plot to erstwhile heroes do you?" _

"_No…"_

"_Harry, you are who you are. I know that what Voldemort did to you was terrible, I won't know how terrible unless you choose to share with me, but I do know that you could never be him. You could never make his decisions, you know yourself too well to fall into those traps. Now, when you were ripping Mrs. Black off the walls, were you thinking about hurting her at all, or just getting her out of your life?"_

"_I threatened to tear down the house."_

"_But you didn't threaten to get a carving knife and ruin her picture? You didn't threaten her directly?" _

"_I guess not."_

"_I've threatened to burn the house down around the old witch before hon, she just inspires those feelings." She shrugged and took a chance, wrapping her arms around his frame she grunted, "You're too skinny. How you gonna get married you so skinny?" _

_Startled into laughter Harry hugged her back. "Stick around I'll cook you something." He got to his feet and walked into the hall. "Now, Mrs. Black, would you care to answer my previous question?" he didn't see her in the portrait, but that didn't mean anything, she could be hiding behind the chair. But before he had a chance to ask again, the frame fell from the wall, and he heard the bad tempered mutterings clearly enough._

"_He's going to stick me in an attic somewhere, I know it. Mold will grow on my frame and the prestigious house of the Black family will be no more. No one will remember us…" it went along in that vein for a while, until Harry couldn't handle the repetition. _

"_Oh, shove it. I'm giving you to a wizarding museum, they'll keep your frame polished and put up with your screaming because you were painted by some famous guy or other…"_

"_MATHHEW KAMFOR!" she shrieked, appalled that he didn't know that. _

"_Whatever, you'll only be in brown paper for a week tops, then you'll be put somewhere where someone could appreciate you." He wrapped her up tightly and sighed, "You old hag." _

_Harry found himself confiding in Tonks more than anyone else, not knowing why. Maybe it was that whatever he told her, she didn't seem appalled, she didn't offer advice unless she knew it would help him, she was talented enough to help him work out how to use his new found powers and she could take his mistakes in stride. He knew that she probably told Remus everything, mostly because some of the advice she gave him had a "Remus" feel to it, and he felt confident that his friends were willing to give him the time he needed. He started going out more, enjoying things more, and finding out what life was really supposed to be like. He'd never had a normal childhood. He probably spent too much time confiding in Tonks, admitting what his life had been like at his uncle's house. At one point he'd had to stop her from storming into Privet drive to decapitate the bastard. When she was cooled down enough she plaintivly asked him if she could just make his hair purple or something. _

_It was comforting, mostly, he supposed, because she was an impulsive do-gooder, just like himself and his friends. But she was old enough, an experienced Auror; to know when jumping in was going to just get you killed. And she'd jumped into helping him. So he figured it couldn't be that bad. _

"_No Harry, it was as bad as you thought. But you had friends that could help you get through it. The power you have is muddled with dark and light, pretty much shoved together and MADE to make nice. If you look in me, you'll find the same thing." Willow opened her mind carefully, he caught glimpses of flayed skin and shaking hands. Blood followed black clouds of hate and confusion. Pain went hand in hand with panic and hysterical weeping. "It looks like the only difference between me and you, is that I embraced that darkness for a while. It took me the love of my friends and the trust we'd developed to bring me back where I belong." _

"_When the pain gets to be too much, I've found that its best to let them help, no matter how much you think you can do on your own." _

"_Xander's hit me with that one a few times." Willow chuckled, "my white knight, a little confused, but still willing to throw himself into the river for a chance to save." _

"_I get muddled readings from him though. He's normal as normal can be, yet…"_

"_He's got an interesting aura that's for sure. He was possessed by a hyena once, and during Halloween one year we all turned into our costumes. He keeps saying that he's got nifty tips from the soldier-boy he was. I have to admit, that knowledge has come in handy a few times."_

"_That explains the different colors and consistencies, but he's got something else going on in there. I need to unravel it before we try to regrow his eye."_

In shock Willow opened her eyes and pulled her forehead away from Harry's. He winced back and clapped his hand to his head.

"OUCH!"

"Sorry!" Willow placed her hands on his head and hastily soothed. When he opened his eyes again, to a dull throb in his skull, he glared.

"Warn me next time huh?"

* * *

i hoped that this part would explain why harry was so comfortable around mirabel, but i only got up to why he's comfy round tonks, though that relationship certainly helps in why he'd be nice with her goddaughter. I really enjoy tonks, i don't thinks shes really written enough to really get the best idea of who she is though. leaves alot of space open for opinions and such.

anyway, enjoy, next chapter- i dunno still rearranging!!


	14. playing with nature

sorry about the delay folks, too much work, not enough sleep equals no creative drive. on the upside i had a terrific day today. its interesting how listening to your pharmacist standing up for herself to an irrate, screaming and WRONG doctor can be. and i quote- "Don't you EVER call my pharmacy and talk to myself OR my staff like this again!" he was mad at her because he hadn't told a patient how to use her albuterol solution. we couldn't have told her how to use it, she doesn't speak english and we didn't have a translator when she picked it up. don't you think a doctor would tell a patient what he is prescribing for her and how to use it before he would let her leave? silly assumptions...

* * *

"Harry, are you telling me that you can re-grow Xander's eyeball?" Willow was obviously unaware of how extensive wizard healing could be. 

"My school nurse re-grew all the bones in my arm at one point."

"Re-grew?"

"My DADA teacher tried to fix my broken arm and instead vanished the bones. That was NOT pleasant, let me tell you," Harry rubbed his arm, like he was expecting it to disappear on him.

"But, I would assume, you'd need to be a wizard for that kind of healing to work. You'd need a steady source of magical energy…"

Harry blessed the gods that Willow was thinking logically on the little things, which was something he'd never been especially good at. Thinking of plans and making sure the right people were on the team was really more of his thing. He could have, and probably would, consult Hermione on the eye thing. She'd be more than happy to do the research required and probably had a lot of information on the subject considering she'd done the research for Ron.

"Which I think we can provide for him without much trouble, considering the Slayers," Harry gestured toward the house, Willow followed his gaze.

"They've got wizard energy?"

"More than some witches I went to school with," Harry nodded. "It's just redirected toward slayer stuff. If we got a fair number of them together, maybe we could leach some energy off until Xander doesn't need it anymore. It's just an idea, and we'd need a lot more information, and I need to figure Xander out…"

"That's the second time you've said that. What's wrong with Xander?" Willow pinned Harry with a glare.

"Nothing is wrong with him, its just that his readings are a bit," Harry put his hands up to ward Willow away from biting his head off. "He's odd, that's all. I mean it, it's not detrimental, but the energy's could blow even simple spells all off course. If we get him back his eye, its going to take more effort and complexities than a simple alhomora."

"Fine. Lets go inside and reassure the others that we're not going to have to battle to the death…"

"I'm supposed to be battling you? What if I won and went after them for pure spite?"

"Then they're screwed," Willow smirked.

"You wanna jerk their chains?"

"What'd ya have in mind?"

* * *

The house shaking, when it was solid stone and steady as the entire earth, was an aberration all by itself. The fact that the sky outside was a brilliant red, was a warning sign that not even Andrew could have missed, even in his basement realm. The girls tended to ignore him, except when he taught their demon classes. He found himself in charge of the books Giles had brought with them, then the ones the girls brought back, and then he'd been roped into reading them all and teaching the girls the basics of what he'd found. So when the sky turned red he had dozens of explanations, precedents and prophecies ready, not one of them good. 

He looked out his half window and ran for the door into the training room his bedroom lead off of. Pushing his way through a few of the slayerettes he stammered out an explanation to the ones who tried to stop him. He got to the top of the stairs just as the door flew off its hinges and sailed over his head.

Buffy tossed Xander through the gaping hole, knocking him into Andrew, who fell down the stairs and landed at the bottom with a groan and a chuckling Xander on top of him. Buffy, as she followed the guys at a more controlled, if no less hurried, pace, hauled him to his feet and shoved Xander against the wall. She howled at the girls to take cover, and then proceeded to follow her own advice just as a limp form with spiky green hair tumbled down the stairs.

Harry managed to roll to his feet just as Willow muttered something under her breath and flung out her hand. This time Harry knew what she was doing, and physically ducked under the vines that shot from the tips of her fingers to bind him. He was limping because the last time she did that he'd had to burn the vines from his ankles. Unfortunately the vines found a different target this time, because Mel wasn't paying attention. She was wrapped in green before anyone knew what had happened.

Harry once again shot a tickling charm from his wand, only this time the deflection hit a mirror instead of Xander, and rebounded. He called up shields to negate it and pondered the new situation. He was surrounded by potential enemies; if any of the girls decided to pounce on him he wouldn't have a chance. Willow was obviously proficient at capture spells, and he didn't have enough energy to dodge her forever, as the horrible green hair indicated.

A creek on the stair behind Willow, though, told him his luck just might have changed. He smirked as he bowed to the lady who had just followed the scent of trouble like it was second nature. And as Harry could attest, it was.

The hand that sliced through Willow's shield was not a hand at all. It was a claw, something like an eagle, though sheathed in power. The glow cut through the resistance like butter, and then the claw was wrapped around Willow's throat.

"Wotcher Harry, Hermione told me about your pleasure jaunt with the Slayers, thought I'd join you. Mind?"

"Aunt Tonks!" Suddenly the claw had reverted to a hand, pulled away from Willow's throat and was wrapped around the short girl with bubblegum hair. As the two hugged Willow backed away and leaned against Harry, who let her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder to keep himself up, and smiled. Family reunions, happy ones anyway, seemed to be rare for Slayers. Everyone was smiling… and laughing hysterically?

Harry cursed himself mentally as he remembered Xander all of a sudden, quit the giggling charms and smiled sheepishly at the glaring eye.

"Ummm.. oops?"

"It's late," Buffy announced as the room fell silent. "Every one who has school tomorrow, in bed, now. Scoobys, guests, please follow me to the library. The rest of you all have things you could be doing, such as the patrols we discussed earlier this evening, I trust you can go about that without help from me."

"She sounds pissed," Harry muttered as he limped up to Willow.

"Yeah, she doesn't really like surprises like these," she gestured toward the pink-haired witches still entwined on the staircase, and the silent Xander. "But she'll get over it, nobody got hurt."

"By the way Willow…" Harry smirked as he pointed at the still entwined Mel.

"Oh, shit! Sorry hon!" Closing her eyes, she concentrated and the vines loosed and eventually disappeared.

As everyone dispersed up the stairs Harry took a moment to offer the other young man a hand up from his ungainly sprawl. Andrew took the offered hand and frowned, confused, at Harry.

"Thanks, but, who are you?"

"Harry Potter…" he trailed off as Andrew's eyes went shimmery in an adoring fashion Harry found rather peculiar coming from a twenty-something male and not a teenage girl.

"I've read so much about you!" Andrew grabbed his hand again and started shaking it so hard Harry rather felt like his arm was going to turn into jelly.

"Harry," Tonks came up behind him, the perfect excuse to yank his arm away. As he turned to face the Auror he noticed the gleam in Andrew's eyes hadn't diminished at all from the rough departure.

"Tonks, come on, we have a meeting to go to," he grabbed her arm, intent on leaving Andrew behind when Willow called down the stairs.

"Andrew, you come up too, I need your help to locate some books."

Somehow Tonks managed not to laugh in Harry's crestfallen face.


	15. library part duex

I was hoping for a longer update, but the ending was so perfect... i'll endevour to make the next one better (longer), thanks for reading.

buffy the vampire slayer owes itself to joss whedon... harry potter and company to j.k. rowling

- and just in response to a review... i forgot to answer i think (sorry!) this is the meeting i was refering to, not an outside one.

* * *

Sitting in the library this time was different for Harry. He didn't feel the need to explain his heart and soul out to justify his presence, as a result he was more comfortable with Buffy's "I'm angry and I don't know how to deal with it" face. He realized he'd seen a lot of it since he met her, just the other day. He had to pause and think for a second when that thought crossed his mind. He'd only known Buffy for two days, and yet it already seemed like a life-time.

"Ok, Willow, first off… _what was that_?"

"Harry and I were just testing our powers against each other," Willow replied, matter-of-fact, then turned to Harry. "If you stick around I'd like to spar against you, I think we could learn a lot from eachother." Harry nodded agreement. A smirk from Tonks had him shaking his head at the metamormangus.

"She's gay Tonks. No match-making," he rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Buffy.

"Second on our agenda then," her gaze was pointed at Tonks and Mirabel, who sat on the couch clutching her aunts hand.

"This is my aunt Nym-" she broke off with a hasty squeal when Tonks tightened her hand quickly. "Tonks. My aunt Tonks."

"I thought you hadn't told your family about us yet."

"She hadn't, but when Harry contacted head-quarters with his location I discovered that he was in the same building the little one had purchased from Lucious…" she looked over at Harry and shook her head at his slight exclamation. "So I figured if I was ever going to get some answers I'd better come in person. And no, Harry, the Ministry doesn't know where I am; or where you are for that matter. I came over the muggle way, which is what took me so long; you know I'd have to register a port-key."

Harry almost concealed the giggle, but not quite. Now she was glaring at him because she'd never been in an airplane before, and he knew she wasn't going to want to repeat the experience anytime soon. "When you want to go back you can side-apparate with me, all right?" she wouldn't have enough strength to do it herself, but with his help she'd make it.

"You'd better."

"So, you came to check up on your niece? Or Harry?" Buffy asked.

"Both, if truth be told. I haven't spoken face-to-face with the little one since she'd been shipped off to that horrid muggle school, and I always like to keep an eye on my honorary nephew-in-law."

"What a mouthful." Harry sniggered.

"Well it's easier to say that then, one of my husbands best friend's son." She shrugged, "it's a tongue-twister I can't get out without thinking about it. And you know how much time I like to waste thinking things through."

"Ok, interrupt." Buffy put her hands together to form a "T".

"That's, time-out, Buff," Xander commented.

"All-right, whatever, all I want to know is what that claw thing was."

Harry and Mirabel forced themselves not to burst out laughing when Tonks got to her feet and, in between one breath and the next, there where two Buffy's standing there, gaping at each other with equally open mouths.

"What a way to catch a fly," Willow observed as both Buffy's snapped their jaws shut.

"How did… what the… STOP THAT!" they both screamed. Harry couldn't contain his mirth any longer. He started giggling as they both shot him glares of extreme disgust. Figuring that she'd shown off enough Tonks transformed back into her former, bubble-gum glory, and patted Buffy's shoulder.

"Thanks for being such a good sport love," she stepped over and slapped Harry hard on one cheek. He stopped laughing, but still had glee in his eyes as he rubbed his stinging cheek.

"She can imitate anyone, and some animal parts, like the hand," Harry shrugged. "It's a talent that tends to run in wizarding family's that span back a couple of generations, and I've noticed that it comes out most frequently in family's that have a long history but suddenly break tradition with muggles." He commented as an aside to Tonks and Mirabel.

"So I can thank my dad for my nifty trick?"

"I definitely think that Ted's got something to do with it… though…" his voice was mostly meant for Tonks, "if I knew more about…" he nodded toward Mirabel, who got up to sit with them on the love seat Harry had been occupying by himself.

"It's up to Mirabel, how much she tells, Harry. I won't have her hurt for preconceived prejudices like I was." Considering the fact that the Black's had blasted her mothers name from their family tree when she married the muggle, Ted Tonks, and she'd felt the snub all through her years at Hogwarts, Harry understood.

"I'll tell them all Aunt Tonks," Mirabel sat and clasped her hands together, staring down at them instead of meeting anyone's eyes. "I think only Harry will be appalled, everyone else probably won't know who I'm talking about and therefore won't care."

"Mirabel," Harry got up from his seat and knelt in front of her, making her look him in the eye. "I know for a fact that even though you're related to someone you are your own person. You are not responsible for your parents or your grandparents mistakes, opinions, lives… you understand? If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. It's also okay if you do. I promise."

"Even if I told you," she asked quietly, "that just last night you sent my uncle to Azkaban?"

Unable to stop himself Harry stood and shouted, "You're related to Malfoy?"


	16. exposition

The resulting smack against the empty skull that used to house Harry's brain resounded through the library. A sheepish cough and plop back down onto the couch brought Harry's eyes level to Mirabel's.

"Really, I knew that… um… uncle?" Harry just couldn't make the connection. As far as he knew Draco had been an only child. As if she knew the hamster was running nowhere, Tonks took a moment to explain.

"Narcissa had a child out of wedlock. That child was Mirabel's mother." Tonks shrugged when Harry turned his gaze to her. "I don't have all the details, but it almost resulted in grandma blasting her off the family tapestry. Narcissa gave up her daughter because her father was a squib, or damn near close to it, and they figured the girl would be useless. She in turn married a muggle, and they had Mirabel here."

"When I was ten Grandmother Narcissa dropped in, my mother was dumbfounded because she'd only met her a couple of times total in her life, she tested me for magic and declared me useless. She said I had a magic core but it was permanently closed. My children might become wizards, but that I would never make it up to the Malfoy standards. That was really the only time I met her… but for some reason they sent me invitations to some family gatherings. After a few times I declined, but I did get the chance to talk with Uncle Draco a few times…" She looked down at her shoes and hunched in a little, "I should have told you he was in town Buffy, I should have told you everything."

Buffy shrugged and moved over to drape her arm around her mini-slayers back.

"You couldn't have known it would be important, that's why you're here, so you can learn from your mistakes while you still have back-up. So you don't have to be by yourself." She received the lunge the pink-haired minx took at her with a smile. She hugged the girl so hard that if she hadn't been a Slayer bones would've broke.

"So he met with you then?" Harry had picked that tidbit up rather easily.

"Yes," Mirabel drew back and cleared her throat. "He knew that something had changed with me, that somehow I was using my magic now, he thought he might be able to use it through a blood bond. He was rather put out when I told him to leave. He tried to throw some kind of a curse at me, but for some reason it bounced off. He had to duck it himself."

"Well that's a nifty trick, do you think it's because she's a Slayer?" Tonks got up, leaving the two Slayers on the love seat and joined Harry on the couch. Harry tilted his head, as if he were studying the two, looking through them. For all practical purposes, he was. He was examining their magical cores. Where Buffy's was strong and steady, focused and pure; Mirabel's was strong, soft and a little fuzzy. In fact, if he were just looking at cores and not the people they inhabited, he would have said Mirabel was pre-Hogwarts age.

"To tell you the truth, I don't think that the Slayer stuff works that way, I think that it's a bit of a suicidal rush. It makes you do what you can do but bails you out when you get past your endurance level. Like an extra shot of adrenaline, a second wind. I think that Malfoy's shot being blasted back was like accidental magic. Like when I made the glass to the snake cage disappear. I was eleven, and pissed, and it just happened. She just needs to work her magic muscles." Harry shrugged, "in fact I think that there's been a lot of accidental magic around here, if all these girls just got activated. Their magical cores are growing stronger, but they don't have direction or instruction in their powers."

"They have plenty of instruction! I've been shoveling as much information into those hormonal cheerleaders with the ability to bench-press tractors as I possibly can!" Andrew protested from behind a mountain of books. The twig-thin, pale man had been so quiet they'd forgotten he was there.

"But you don't have the information they need in this instance Andrew," Willow pointed out. "I've been able to give them some background on Wicca, but almost none of them have the talent for it, and You've given them great information on demons and lore, but that doesn't include the spell craft they might be able to accomplish with a wizard teacher."

"In fact, Andrew, if you had magic ability's I'd say you'd probably make a great DADA teacher," Harry pointed out. He'd noticed the extensive library and was impressed that Andrew had been able to pull out books almost immediately to find the information he'd needed. He'd obviously read and retained more information than Harry'd ever been able to from books. "In fact, Tonks, I was thinking about bringing Hermione over, she'd just faint from this library. I know for a fact that Hogwarts doesn't have anything so extensive."

"Give her a break from the Order? Ron's been pushing for a vacation for her," Tonks nodded. I'll invent some emergency or other… Excuse me." Tonks went for the door, but looked back, "Don't need me for anything? Harry your crystal in your bag?" When she got the negative and positive she left.

"And Xander, with Hermione and Ron here, it'll be that much easier for us to figure if we can do anything with that eye. She's got all the research we tried to look up for Ron, she'll be able to really fine tune the response." Xander drifted over, along with Willow who was uber-interested in re-growing body-parts through magic, and started a question answer session that ended with a lot of, "I think," and, "We'll wait for Hermione," answers to her questions. Andrew lost himself in the stacks after he realized that he wasn't being made fun of or be-littled, and little Mirabel was still in the slack of Buffy's arms. She leaned back and laid her head against the older Slayer's chest.

"It's like nothing's changed," Buffy barely heard the incredulous whisper.

"Because nothing really did child," She brushed some hair from the girls face and let her cuddle closer. "We've got some new information that could be helpful, we've figured out who to trust and who not to, and now we've got more people coming over to the house to help us. It's all par for the course. Big secrets aren't so big after you let them out."

"It's just that my family is really big on the black magic…"

"Willow was, at one point, and I'm willing to bet that Harry hasn't been a squeaky clean paragon like he tells me that "Wizarding world" wants him to be. It's not about what you did before. It's about what you're doing now to make up for it. Hell, I've told you what the council did to me when I turned seventeen. I know I've told you my reaction to that. And what happened to Faith? You know this world is not black and white. You are the Slayer, you walk a line that many have fallen down," She angled the bubble-gum pink head around so they were looking eye to eye. "I trust in you kitten, to make the right decision. And when that's not possible, to make the best one available at the time; without our trust in each other, we are nothing. All right?" When she received a sheepish nod she directed the girl to bed and got up herself.

"Well, I'm patrolling, anyone want to go with?"

* * *

so this is the end of the talking heads for a bit... exposition is such a btch!! next couple of chapters we get some fight scenes, blood, guts and glory!!! (hee hee!) 


	17. the agora

ok, so here you go- buffy belongs to josh, harry belongs to jk. um... figuring that this is set in cleveland i decided to add a bit of local flavoring. if you ever have the chance to go to the Agora Ballroom... jump at it. fun fun fun at its highest peak!

* * *

Buffy supposed she shouldn't have been surprised when Harry jumped at the chance to get out of the house. She'd seen the scholarly gleam in Willow's eyes, and Harry'd seen it too. He had to leave or he'd spend the rest of the night in a study session. He'd graduated from that weird pig school he'd been talking about, and like Buffy, had more important things to do than further an education that wouldn't help in her career choice at all.

Harry was keyed up. He'd gotten a nasty rush of adrenaline when fighting Willow that hadn't dissipated as they sat in the library talking. He felt like spontaneously bursting into a song and dance routine, or maybe finding one of those tractors Andrew was talking about. Maybe he should have been meditating or something other than going out and actively looking for a fight, but he was bored and he had to get out of the house before he started twitching. Walking with Buffy was soothing in a way. He had no doubt she'd find a fight, and let him participate when she did. That was the advantage, he realized, of fighting with a practical stranger. Once you proved able to care for yourself, they didn't hawk eye you. He found that when he went out on missions with Aurors, even Tonks, they tended to baby him. He almost snorted as he contemplated previous fights. Buffy seemed to hear the almost snort and turned to look at him with a question in her raised eyebrow.

"Just thinking how easy this is."

"Easy?"

"Not the fighting," he elaborated, hearing the scorn in her voice. "Being here, with you, instead of someone "Older and Wiser"; it's somewhat damaging to the ego when I get guided by the hand."

"Yeah, I got a lot of that when the Council tried to replace Giles; idiot old men that they are."

"Always think they know better than you, even after you've proved them wrong."

"I've found that if you punch out enough of them they stop sending replacements." Buffy grinned when he chuckled in response.

"I wish I could've done that to a few teachers," Harry admitted. "I would've loved to have punched Snape right in his crooked nose." His hand curled into a fist as he slid into a few memories. Shaking his head he sighed, "Unfortunately people don't seem to want to listen to their saviors, do they?"

"Nope," Buffy stuck her thumbs into her belt and let her arms dangle. She bumped her shoulder into Harry's and smirked. "In my experience they just tell you that you're vital and then make plans without telling you anything. You have to stay safe and uncomplicated by the darker aspects, and then when you go and save the day they yell at you for it."

"You should have heard Mrs. Weasley when Voldemort died. She sent me a howler."

"What's a howler?"

"It's a letter that screeches at you. If you don't open it then it explodes and screams at you anyway."

"Ouch." Buffy grinned. "How do you send those?"

"Not telling." Harry bumped his shoulder into hers and laughed as she pouted.

"Harry!" she whined, going to continue the shoving match she suddenly paused and let her hands drop from her waist.

"Let me guess…" Harry trailed off as Buffy's gaze went over his shoulder and her lips paused in a quick smirk.

"Lovebirds…" a hissing exclamation fluttered against the back of his neck.

"Two for the price of one, eh?"

"So happy for such a fleeting time."

"Lets just kill 'em and be done with it."

Harry couldn't help himself. He really couldn't. He started laughing.

* * *

Four supernatural fighting machines versus Buffy. Harry hadn't been much of a help, he had to catch his breath first, then he had to get off the ground from where he'd been rolling in the grass, then he had to open his eyes and wipe away the tears. As he did the last Buffy had been kicking the fourth one in the stomach and then driving down with a stake toward the heart.

"Fat lot of good you are." Buffy walked over after brushing dust from her jeans and smacked Harry, hard, on the back of his head.

Rubbing the bruise he was sure was forming as he spoke, he stuck out his tongue. "Not like you needed me."

"So not the point wizard-boy."

"Wizard-boy?" he asked as she continued to complain.

"You were supposed to be my backup. What would have happened if during your laughing fit one of them had gotten past my guard and bitten me? Huh? What then smart-ass?"

"Smart-ass and Wizard-boy? Sounds like a comedy duo/ superhero idiot squad," he muttered, "Besides, you had it completely under control."

"But what if I didn't?"

"Trust me; I could have gotten up for it, if you needed me."

"That's the point Harry, I don't know what you can do, and I have a hard time trusting anybody who leaves me hanging like that."

"All right, next guys we come across, I'll take them myself. You can sit back and giggle all you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Take me anywhere; I'll take them all out. Scouts honor."

* * *

The music was loud, the bodies warm and damp. The lights were low and the thumping of combat boots on the worn wooden dance floor constant. Harry knew that his time in a private school in the middle of nowhere left several gaps in his social education, but he had no idea where the hell he was, or what he was supposed to be doing.

Feeling very underdressed in jeans, white sneakers and a button-up light blue shirt, he glared at Buffy who seemed to fit it, chameleon like, in her high heeled black boots, tight dark jeans and red tank top. Everybody else was in some form of grunge gear, shaved heads with tattoos, kohl lined feminine and male eyes alike, dark lips and silver posts in ears, lips and noses. Ripped t-shirts, jeans and untied boots; a few in skin tight leather and long pale blond hair.

When he said anywhere, he hadn't been expecting a breeding place for dark forces. When he mentioned that to Buffy she just laughed and yanked his head down to scream in his ear.

"The Agora isn't a breeding place, but the bands they book tend to bring out the night life! After they wrap up we tend to find several vamp groups leaving."

"So I have to stay here, listen to this noise, go deaf and then hunt vampires?"

"You sound like Giles! Loosen up, enjoy the mosh pit!" He had a bad feeling about the smirk on her lips. The next second he knew why. She pushed him into the dance floor, and he was instantly dragged into the middle as people yanked, punched and twirled around him. Death by insane dancing, was not how he wanted to go out. He grabbed a flailing arm and judo'd around it. Ducking under stray punches and twirling bodies he managed to keep on his own feet. Suddenly the entire group of people moved to the right, bodies packed around him, he was unable to move in the sea of faces and dangerous spikes.

It took him ten minutes to fight his way out. When he managed it he found Buffy, sitting on a bar stool with a gleam in her eyes and a lager held out for him. Taking the red plastic party cup he leaned against the bar and placed his lips next to her ear. At his suggestion she coughed, laughing so hard she had to brace herself against the bar.

"No, I promise, they're not all supernatural monsters in need of slaying," she patted his bicep, noticing that he'd lost the sleeve at one point. He really was cut, she approved, and now that it was showing through several rents of his shirt, several of the Goth girls in attendance where noticing as well.

"Are you sure? Because that seemed like supernatural strength out there to me."

"They're all just hopped up on adrenaline Harry, and in a few cases, something stronger."

"I still think that bald one could be a mountain troll in disguise." He muttered, still feeling the sharp elbow in his side.

"Hi, I'm Abby, what's your name?" a hand thrust itself into Harry's line of sight as a curvy brunette with a too small hello kitty t-shirt introduced herself.

"Harry, hi." He shook her hand.

"You haven't been here before, have you?" she grinned as she picked at his shirt.

"Nope." He admitted ruefully.

"You wanna go someplace quiet and get to know me?" her lips sharpened meaningfully as her hand tucked under his shirt and laid on his abs.

"Uh…" Harry was painfully aware of Buffy, sitting next to him and laughing hysterically. The girl was getting closer and closer, resting against him he could feel every curve… and he had a feeling that she could feel his and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"I like shy guys." She bit his lip as he whimpered, and her hands now clasped the bar at his back, trapping him effectively. He thought briefly about giving in, as her warm breath fluttered against his damp and chewed lip. She was utterly enchanting… and that's what made him straighten his spine.

"I'm really sorry, but I'm not really into Succubi," he flared his aura a bit and was relieved when she giggled and backed off.

"No worries, darling. I'm only half. Otherwise the sisters would be after me." She nodded toward Buffy, who nodded back, and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "You're a good one, she better treat you right." And with that parting shot she sashayed away. After his heartbeat returned to normal, and he was sure he was thinking with his right mind, he glared at Buffy.

"Was that my test?"

"No, but I think it says something very important about you," Buffy took a sip of her beer, reminding Harry of the lager in his hand. He drained it while he waited for her to continue.

"That is?"

"You're in love."

* * *

soundtrack : Nevermore's _I Voyager _from the album Enemies of Reality, then _Believe in Nothing_ from the album Dead Heart in a Dead World


	18. mosh pit madness

soundtrack: Born, and Sound of Silence (cover) from Nevermore.

* * *

Harry could only gape, wide-eyed at her easy pronouncement. That was so not what he had been thinking. He figured it had said he was strong, maybe smart, not that he was in love. Though as Buffy calmly sipped, she smirked at him and nudged his arm.

"Come on, only someone with exceptional willpower could remove themselves from Succubi, even a half-breed like Abs. I tend toward the theory that you have someone in your life worth fighting basic lust for. In fact, I know your type, as it were."

"My type?" Harry tried for outrage, but gave it up as he slumped against the bar and ordered whiskey.

"The whole, brooding, "my life is the fight" type; you haven't given yourself the opportunity to really get settled into life, because you're too busy either redeeming yourself or just fixing the world for the sake of it. I'd tell you you're an idiot, but I tend toward the same "type" myself."

"So I'm in love?"

"Why are you asking me?

"Because you put it out there," Harry gestured with his drink into the empty air.

"You just don't want to admit that I'm right; because that means you're avoiding the situation instead of dealing with it and someone's probably pointed that out to you by now. And here I am, pointing out the same thing, and we've just met. That means I'm right, they're right, and you need to take your head from your ass and deal with it."

"My head from my ass… You really have a way with words, Buffy."

"I try."

"I don't know why, but suddenly I'm really pissed off."

"It's the music," Buffy blithely explained. Then her eyes narrowed as she took in a couple of moshers, with seemingly inhuman strength. "You wanna do some public spectacle?" she nodded at the group who, with strength and speed, where pushing the normals every which way.

"If you are," Harry shot the rest of his Glenfiddich and flexed his magic muscles. Building a fine layer of protection around himself he centered and slipped a stake from his ankle holster into his unripped sleeve.

"Always."

Moving to the open floor with smooth side steps between the gathered mob of concert goers, Buffy stopped right at the edge of the newly opened space. She watched the vampires with an amused smirk; they seemed to be having the time of their undead lives. Seeing Harry move into position on the other end of the pit, she nodded in agreement and stepped into chaos.

Sidestepping an enthusiastic fist Buffy grabbed and yanked the vamp into her stake, walking through the dust and into the confrontation zone. Suddenly six large vamps where staring at her, the entire room seemed to still around the pounding music.

When a large gap appeared in the middle of the line and the dust around Harry settled, there were two focus points for the remaining four. Or there would be four, if a few more hadn't dropped into the circle from their vantage points in the balcony.

There was too much movement for Buffy to count, but she entered the fight with whirling fists and high kicks, keeping them from her neck and pouncing on every opportunity.

Harry used slight bursts of flaring sunlight to burn vampires away from him. The momentary pain would keep them off balance as he punched out, keeping the stake concealed as much as he possibly could. The crowd surrounding them started to become a nuisance when a vamp grabbed one guy and flung him toward Harry. Reacting, not really thinking, he shot out a single command his hand out and the guy floated four feet off the ground, stopping right before smacking into the wizard. He dropped his hand and staked the shocked vamp easily before turning to the next one as the guy fell with a thud to the floor.

It was almost a ballet, in the middle of the screeching guitar rifts and hauntingly perfect dual voices. Buffy spun kicked out and shoved a vamp into Harry's arms. He grabbed the head and yanked, viciously twisting the neck, throwing the vamp to the floor and bending down under another high kick to implant the stake precisely in the heart.

As the music came to a sudden halt, two vampires were left, growling with their ugly faces out, standing shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the wide empty space. Almost as one Buffy and Harry shot out their arms, flinging their stakes out from their wrists, sharp, fast and accurate. The two vanished into dust as a strange silence echoed out from their absence.

One of the guitarists on stage started picking a few notes, gathering the distilled energy and pumping life into the watchers; without warning the rest of the band joined, the melodic noise shooting them into the pit and shoving them against Buffy and Harry with enthusiasm.

"That was awesome! Great floor show!" One of the guys picked Buffy up and crowd surfed her toward the stage. Soon behind her was Harry, ruefully straightening his pants as they almost fell off in the grasping hands. To his great shock Harry recognized the song as a cover of Simon and Garfunkle's, _Sound of Silence_. He would never have guessed that he'd enjoy heavy metal music so much, but it was growing on him.

Now the only question left was, how the hell was he supposed to get off the stage? He looked over at Buffy, who was dancing on the stage with the lead singer, giving it all she was worth, and then launched herself into the mosh pit. Harry just managed to stop himself from having a heart attack at her kamikaze-ism, as she was caught and flung into the air by several moshers, then let down as she tapped shoulders. She made her way to the back of the room and grinned evilly.

Now he got it. This was his test of faith. Not the fighting, not the soul bearing… she wanted to know if he had the guts to trust his life limbs and happiness to a bunch of over-stoked metal heads.

"You only live once," he muttered to himself; took a deep breath, and plunged.

* * *

Harry had to stop once they were outside in the cool air and lean against the wall. The muted sounds of the band behind the brick wall were odd, like someone had taken cotton balls and stuffed them in his ears. His head was pounding, and his remaining sleeve had been ripped away. He might as well have been naked from the waist up, for all the good his shirt had done him.

"Come on hero, lets get you home." Buffy chuckled at the glare he gave her as she lifted one of his arms and laid it over her shoulder.

"Never again," Harry growled.

"Ah, come on, Warrel said you were metal. That's the highest compliment he could give you."

"I came with you to stake a couple of vamps, not have my insides pummeled by a dozen bald men with metal spikes in their faces."

"You had fun, admit it."

"If I admit it will you promise to never do this to me again?"

"Somewhat."

"Howso?"

"If you need it again I'll subject you to it again. Until then I'll give you fair warning. That's all your going to get."

"Fine," Harry sighed as he hugged her with his one arm. "I enjoyed myself."

"Woooohoo!" Buffy pumped her fist into the air and chuckled, "Next stop, The Odean!"

* * *

If you know anything about the Cleveland metal scene, you're chuckling right now too... ( unfortunatly i haven't been in cleveland for a while and i heard a rumor that the odean was closed? anyone know anything? )

* * *


	19. anger

Tonks and Willow were sitting in the library, pouring over books, when the two hunters returned. Willow looked up and waved Buffy over, letting her know that the other patrols had gone smoothly and everyone was in bed. Tonks let Harry know that Hermione was making arrangements for herself and Ron to fly over as soon as possible.

"She said she'd contact you tomorrow when she knew which flight they'd be on," Tonks shivered, she'd never EVER use muggle aircraft again!

"Thanks, anybody up for some cookies?" Harry found himself wondering into the kitchen, so he asked absently, then had to blink when not only Tonks followed him, but so did Buffy, Andrew, Willow and Xander. "I guess that answers my question."

* * *

_She was smirking at him again. She knew he couldn't help himself when her lips were tilted to the side; he had to tear his gaze away with monumental effort. When he looked down at the book in his lap he had forgotten what it was, exactly, he had been looking for. He tried to concentrate, and was thinking so hard he didn't notice her getting to her feet and then kneeling behind him. When her hand trailed up his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair he jumped, the book falling out of his lap and closing with a dull thud. _

"_What…" he lost his train of thought when her lips grazed his ear. "Huh." _

_She giggled and the vibration from her lips, right under his ear, made him gasp quietly. "You, Harry Potter, work too hard." _

"_You know," he turned his head so that his lips were at her ear as hers rested on his jaw. "I was just thinking about taking a break." _

"_Sounds good, what did you want to do? Take a walk? Make a sandwich?" The giggle in her throat got lost when he grabbed her waist and twisted about so that she landed neatly in his lap, his arms twined about her, her arms trapped against his chest. _

"_I was thinking about something else entirely."_

"

* * *

Harry woke to a slight buzzing sound, something vibrating against his feet, he struggled not to laugh. He sat up and snatched the crystal ball up, blocking a yawn as he activated it.

"What's up?"

"Honestly Harry," Hermione scolded, her head tilted as she shook it in exacerbation.

"What?" Now he was aggravated. He didn't need a reprimand from Hermione first thing in the morning.

"It's almost one in the afternoon, your time, and I had to wake you up. What have you been doing?"

"Slaying vampires with a professional; excuse me if it took me a while to respond." He got up and stretched a little, blushed when he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt, and set the crystal down in his bunched up sheets before opening his trunk for a clean shirt. He noticed quickly that his dirty laundry had disappeared.

"Dobby," Hermione acknowledged when he asked. "He popped in this morning and asked me if I had anything I wanted to send to you. Don't bother telling him to stop," she interjected before he could complain. She waved off his astonished glance at her. "He won't listen to me anyway, and none of the house elves have listened to me at all. I haven't given up SPEW, I'm just regrouping at the moment."

"Is he going to give me my clothes back anytime soon?" he had just realized that he didn't have any clean shirts, or jeans either. Luckily Dobby hadn't stripped him in his sleep, he could still go get something to eat in his sweatpants and a spare sweatshirt he found squished under his "grimore". Hermione made him promise to write down any spells he invented or found in his wandering around.

"After he cleans them I suppose. I was calling to let you know that I booked our flight out. We'll be in Cleveland, John-Hopkins International Airport, tomorrow at eight PM. Don't forget to pick us up. Tonks said that someone named Xander offered to give us a ride, let him know."

"Right. Oh, and Hermione," Harry grinned, "Make sure you torment Ron as much as possible for me. All right?" He placed the crystal in his trunk and closed it to the sound of Hermione's evil chuckle.

* * *

Harry munched on a bagel as he extended his hand over the map he spread on the library floor. Swaying near his fingertips was a small wand-shaped crystal. He was contemplating making a batch of pumpkin juice as he imposed the tiniest bit of black magic into the clear crystal. It glowed purple for a moment, then flung itself down toward the map, leaving a dark ink stain every time it resonated with a spot.

By the time the crystal had drained Harry was done with his bagel, decided to put off pumpkin juice until Hermione could help him, and every location that a Death Eater had used his magic in the city was marked by a black splotch.

Though he had to admit, it wasn't necessarily the one he'd been searching for. As long as a Death Eater had taken the mark, he had been connected to Voldemort; they still had a connection to his magic. This was the last, and Harry was almost desperate to find him.

Harry sat next to the map, and then held his hand out over the first spot.

"Malfoy." He muttered and banished it as he felt the signature. Dracos signature, funny enough, felt like a bunny to Harry- a black, evil, stuck-up-the-butt bunny- but a bunny nonetheless.

Going through the map he narrowed down to seven of the fifteen spots. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to put together the stains, and maybe motivation, a possible hide-out location…

"Whatcha doin?" Andrew asked, leaning over Harry's shoulder and studying the map intently.

"Looking for someone."

"An Evil someone?"

"Of course."

"Why don't you just ask the local demons?"

"Why would they help me?"

"Most of them aren't evil. You'll need a Slayer to go with, just in case, but a lot are happy to help." Andrew sat on the floor next to Harry and shrugged, "They don't want hell on earth, they like earth the way it is. So they keep an ear, or whatever, out. Helps out a lot sometimes."

"I asked Abby last night," Harry admitted, then shook his head when Andrew got a goofy grin on his face. "It wasn't like that, she told me that some warehouses down by the docks have been unusually busy at night lately…" he pointed toward a particularly large splotch of black. "I've been double checking, and I'm going to ask Buffy for her opinion on tactics."

"So you're not going to push us out cause we're not wizards?"

"Look, Andrew, I may not be the smartest guy around, but I'm not going to throw away valuable resources just because I've got a grudge against this guy. Yes, I am going to bring him down, but I won't be able to do this alone." Harry had learned the hard way, going alone only brought pain.

"Good, cause these girls, they can help."

"I know Andrew, and trust me, they will be something McNair couldn't ever expect." Harry would have smirked, but he heard the rustle of fabric behind him and Tonks broken whisper before he could turn.

"McNair?" Her voice shuddered out, something like death in her hesitancy.

"Tonks…"

"Harry, no. You promised."

"He's the last Tonks, you need to-"

"No, Harry."

"I don't expect you to understand."

"I don't."

"I need to do this."

"Harry, contact the Ministry, talk to Remus…"

"Tonks…" Harry got to his feet and tried to grab Tonks into a hug, she tugged her arm away, viciously flinging her arms out.

"What do you have to prove Harry?" she shouted out, "you promised, when it came to McNair, you'd let the Ministry handle it!"

"They CAN'T handle IT! It's MCNAIR!" he shouted back, his fists clenched at his side. "Voldemorts right-hand man! They don't have the ability to handle IT! Hell they couldn't even handle most of the Death Eaters still around afterwards! They had to rely on the Order!"

"Then wait for the Order! Wait for Remus!"

"I can't do that Tonks. I wait much longer and he'll be gone. AGAIN!" He shot out, bitterly aware of his past failures, how many times his torturer had disappeared because he hadn't taken advantage of a bit of knowledge. Before he couldn't admit to himself that he didn't follow up because he'd been frightened. He found himself almost as afraid of McNair as he had been of Voldemort. Now, as McNair was the last name left on his list, he had to shove all that denial aside and deal with it. He had to find the man, and he had to kill him.

"Harry," Buffy leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed under her chest. "Let's work out some of that tension. Tonks, I'm borrowing your boy here for a minute." Her expression left no room for argument. If he'd denied her, he knew, she'd just walk across the room and throw him bodily out the door. Harry unclenched his fists, feeling the adrenaline surge through his body, and stalked out of the library past a white-faced Tonks.

Tonks stood as the two left, then let out a shaky breath, desperately trying to keep from collapsing into a puddle of tears.

* * *

Harry felt himself hit the mat with a punishing impact, his bones felt like jelly, but he forced himself up again. Buffy was slowly circling around him, waiting for him to make his next move. For half an hour they hadn't said a word, and Buffy kept introducing Harry to the mat. He hadn't been able to get the upper hand once, and he knew that she wasn't going to let him win. If he was going to beat her, he'd just have to be better than her.

His concentration was shot to hell, he knew that he wasn't maintaining his shields correctly at the moment, and for once he could care less that his emotional state was probably giving every receptive in the house a head ache. Buffy didn't seem to be bothered by it, but in a sudden flash of insight he realized that Slayers probably had natural shields for that kind of thing. Magical creatures like Centaurs had natural blocks against most direct magic's, and Harry now recalled that a while a stunner he'd sent at a vampire the previous night had brushed against Buffy, she had been unaware.

When he realized that he was thinking, analyzing, instead of just letting Buffy pound on him, he figured that her therapy might be working. Hot and sweaty now, he stripped off his sweat shirt and started using his brain as something other than a crashing pad.

Buffy paused for a second, her eyes scanning down his well muscled body. This was what she had missed before. Now that his concentration was shot and he wasn't being uber defensive against her, he'd relaxed his security more than he'd probably meant to. Now she saw the scars, the pocks, the holes that had been cut into his body. As he brushed his hair off his forehead she saw the lighting bolt scar above his eye, it was pale pink, as if it had never really ever healed completely. He had a nice set of claw marks on his left bicep, parallel lines running down his right side, and a complicated array of whip marks between his shoulder blades. Some scrapes had been cared for, those were faded to almost nothing against his pale skin, but others stood out in sharp relief.

He'd been through a lot, and hadn't been treated for much of it. Buffy wondered how many more scars she would have had if not for Willow babying them, or her mother staying up and wrapping bandages, or Xander insisting on med care before he'd let her go out and kick more ass. She let him have more time. Once he paused she knew he'd worked himself out of a rage and was beginning to plot. That had been her goal, and now they'd really get down to it.

"So you done being angry now?"

"Apparently I do angry well, I'm just as surprised as you."

"Which is to say, not at all," Harry snorted in response and settled into a boxing stance. Buffy mirrored his stance and bounced a little on the balls of her feet.

"You know what I always found amusing about Voldemort?"

"What?"

"His nose," Harry explained as he shot his fist out. Buffy caught it and swung him around, grabbing him across his chest, her breasts pressed up against his shoulder blades. He was caught in her arms, his wrists captured in her hands. "It was the oddest thing, just two little slits, and all I wanted to do was punch him, once in his nose." He didn't struggle much, just chuckled as she adjusted her grip. "I kept telling myself that, if nothing else, all I wanted to do before I left this earth was to punch him. Never got the chance." He shifted so that they were both facing the mirror, Buffy looking down at him as he muttered something. She tried to catch it, but couldn't understand the Latin.

"In fact, Buffy," he chuckled, "it looked somewhat like yours." He nodded toward the mirror, and had to brace himself quickly as her hands flew up to cover her nose. Her scream echoed through the basement room as Harry swept her legs out from under her and quickly covered her body with his own, pinning her to the mat. "One! Two! Three!" he pounded his fist down and got back up, crowing in victory. "I win! I WiN! I WI- aH!"

He felt his legs collapse beneath him as Buffy shot out her own; tripping him up as he'd tripped her. Then she sat on his stomach and glared down at him. She'd figured out the illusion, as she could still feel the real shape of her nose, but that didn't mean she wasn't pissed.

"That was so immature." She griped.

"What I look forward to is continued immaturity followed by death." Harry chuckled at the disgust on her face.

"Just for that, you're cooking dinner."

* * *

so i hope i've managed to do more this chapter than just make a fool outa myself. um... a little bit of explaining what Harry is doing in Cleveland, finally who he's really looking for. And yes, you will find out what Harry promised Tonks in the next couple of chapters, though the gist is basically obvious...

also, the line about immaturity is quoted from Dave Barry. enjoy!


	20. sisters

Harry hummed as he checked the lasagna. The hot air from the oven swept across his face and he nodded in time with the tune he couldn't get out of his mind. He closed the oven and continued chopping vegetables for salad as he shook his hips slightly. He was completely unaware that he was boogying down as he prepared dinner, but a few mini-slayers were sitting at the bar counter separating the kitchen from the dinning area, watching him with slight grins on their faces. Lulu, Mel, and Jennifer had each offered their assistance before sitting down, each with their favorite respective soda in their hands. Harry had just waved them away, assuring them that he had complete control. Of course they had been skeptical. He had been making lasagna for over twenty people, and it was only six inches by four. When he finished putting it all together he had looked down at it, up at the girls, then back down and shrugged.

"Forgot," he told them. "_Amplifico_," He had waved his wand over the dish and it had swelled. Then he flicked his wrist and muttered, "Double, double toil and trouble, _gemino_." Suddenly there were two huge lasagnas, he chuckled at their applause as he opened the oven and slid them in, setting the timer and promptly forgot about them.

But for the past few minutes he'd been humming a song that had become very popular with the girls while training. Lulu sat, humming quietly along while Mel had to stop herself from jumping up and shouting the lyrics. Jennifer just laid her head down on her folded arms and giggled hysterically while Harry's hips shimmied.

Harry found, as he was expecting, garlic in the fridge. He grabbed the French bread and began doctoring it with olive oil and set the halves aside while he made garlic paste. He pulled out some green beans and dumped the bags on the bar counter along with a large glass bowl. "Just snap the ends off, I'll take it from there." He looked down at Jennifer and tapped her head. When she looked up he noticed her cheeks were pink, and she had tears in her eyes.

"Are you all right? Do you want me to get Buffy for you?"

"No!" she gasped, "I'll be fine! I swear!"

"All right," he turned back to his large knife and the pile of garlic bits, salting it and smooshing it patiently into paste. Unconciously he began singing, bobbing his head up and down in time.

"I'm not here for your entertainment

you don't really want to mess with me tonight!

Just stop and take a second

I was fine before you walked into my life!

Cause you know it's over

Before it began…"

He stopped and looked up when he heard the pig snorts. Jennifer couldn't hold it in anymore. She fell off her stool and started gasping for breath as Mel lost control, jumped up and sang the next part.

"Keep your drink just give me the money!

It's just you and your hand tonight!"

Harry could literally feel his cheeks turn red.

* * *

He had to bribe them to keep them quiet during dinner. He was hoping they'd never relate to the others, especially Buffy, what he'd been doing, but he knew it was unrealistic. Dessert, as a consequence, had been chocolate. A lot of chocolate. And most of it was hopping around the room as he reanimated the frogs, making the slayers work for their sweets. Ron had complained, he remembered, about how they only had one good jump in them to start. Harry just kept them going until the girls caught them. 

Buffy watched with a smirk on her lips. She had gone for the ice cream, not really interested in running all over the place for some chocolate. And when Harry sat next to her and offered a piece of chocolate from the huge bar in his hands she knew she made the right choice. Taking a bite she had to resist the urge to steal the rest of it right out of his hand.

"Honeydukes chocolate. The best wizarding candy anywhere," he explained, taking a bite. Now that all the girls had gotten dessert, they were starting to split off into groups. Some doing homework, others going out to patrol. When they were, at last, sitting alone, Buffy leaned over and nudged his shoulder with her own.

"Tonks is still upset."

"So am I." Harry admitted. He was just better at hiding it. He got to his feet and, like the morning before, stacked and cleaned the dishes magically. Dinner aside, he hadn't done a lot of magic that day, and he really didn't want to have this conversation. He was antsy, and angry, and just pained. He knew McNair was in the city, the Hellmouth was a huge draw, he just wanted to find the man and finish it.

"Who is he?"

"I could act really dumb and ask who you mean, but it wouldn't do much to stall you would it?"

"No." No flirtatious grin, no exasperated sigh. Just a clean cut negative, and Harry knew he had to come clean.

"Let's go out in the garden."

"All right."

* * *

"So I told you about Voldemort and how I had to basically let myself be used as a human sacrifice right?" Harry was sitting on the grass, just about where he'd sat with Willow, while Buffy found a boulder nearby and yanked it over. She was sitting cross legged above him, while he stared down at his feet. 

"Yeah, you said that you left your friends at school and let this megalomaniac take you away, he tried to sacrifice you and since you were a willing sacrifice he died instead of you... which i still don't get, and i probably never will."

"I kinda left out the part where I was imprisoned for two months, he was waiting for Halloween because that's the night he killed my parents," he kept talking, fast, as though pushing aside any questions or objections she might have had. She didn't even try to talk though, as he let it all out. "McNair was his right hand, his most vicious lackey. When he didn't feel like personally tormenting me, he let McNair have free reign as long as he didn't kill me. When it was all over with I had… major… issues. Tonks helped me, a lot, she helped me get past it. And I promised her, once when we were both crying enough to drown a house cat; that I would let the Ministry take care of McNair; that I wouldn't go after him myself. She's just afraid that I'll do something I'll regret." He looked up at Buffy, and let her see the sincerity in his eyes, "But I don't think that I'll ever regret anything I'd do to that man."

Buffy was silent for a while, just looking into his eyes, brilliant blue into vibrant green.

"I've died a couple of times." Buffy waved away his questions, she just wanted him to listen. "The first time I died I was drowned by a Master Vamp, and Xander brought me back with CPR. Then I jumped off a twisted tower to save my sister from being used as a trans-dimensional key, and I made it to heaven. But my friends didn't know that. They thought I'd been sent to hell. So they brought me back. Using blood magic, horrible magic that Willow hadn't been able to control in the end. When I was brought back, Harry, every moment was like living torture. Every breath hurt, every laugh was wrong." He could hear her voice breaking; see the tears that started to gather at her eyes. But she didn't let them drop. She didn't break down; she just looked into his eyes and slid down the rock, taking him into her arms as she sat beside him.

"Time. Time brings healing. I'm sure you know. But even a name, a face, a creak in a floorboard, can bring the pain rushing back. I know you know that Harry. Let's just wait for your friends, talk it out with Tonks, and we'll come to a compromise."

"I'm such a baby, letting this get to me." Harry complained, detangling himself from Buffy. He took a minute to compose himself and got to his feet, offering Buffy a hand up.

"Whatever," Buffy teased. "You're just establishing yourself as a sensitive guy who's not afraid to cry. Next thing I know you'll be propositioning me." She poked his shoulder as he started to walk away. He stopped suddenly, spun around and caught her up in his arms, tilting her so that they resembled something of a romance novel cover. Or they would have if his sweatshirt wasn't so grubby or if it was torn revealing mad muscles, and if his hair was longer and windswept... And she wasn't trying really hard not to laugh, so hard in fact that her cheeks were pink.

"Two peoples lives don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world Elsa, that's why you're getting on that plane…maybe not today, maybe not tommor-" he had to stop because she was giggling madly. He grinned at her and kissed her quickly. She stopped giggling, dumbfounded, her eyes blinked as she registered his lips. They were staring at each other as he released her and they each coughed awkwardly.

"Let's… not… do that again," Harry looked away, brushing his hands off on his sweatpants, just for something to do. He hadn't ever had a sister, but he was certain this was how Ron would have felt had he ever kissed Ginny.

"Right, never again," Buffy agreed as she started walking down the path. She paused as Harry poked her shoulder.

"So you want me right?" he grinned as she smacked his forehead, then let out a lecherous cackle. She yelped playfully and let him chase her the rest of the way into the house.

* * *

The next day, after getting his clothes back from his ever faithful house elf, and teaching some slayers meditation techniques, he spoke with Tonks about not going off alone and vengeful. She agreed that while he was here, and McNair was here it would be foolish to let him run rampant around Cleveland if they could stop it. And then she agreed that they should wait for the others before really settling down a plan of attack. Harry spent some time in the kitchen making a cake for Hermione and Ron's arrival and threatened the entire household away from touching it until he gave the okay. Then he whipped up a batch of extra frosting, realizing that maybe he'd better offer incentive for good behavior. They ordered pizza for dinner and, after snagging pizza from the communal pile in the kitchen, Harry attempted to push Xander toward the door. The one-eyed man was stubbornly planting his feet, letting Harry grumble under his breath about how Hermione would kill him if they were late picking them up. 

"She'll kill you too, she's scary when she's impatient," He stopped shoving at the taller man when he remembered he was a wizard, he owned a wand. "_Windgardium leviosa_," chuckling under his breath now, he waved at the slayers in the library as he floated Xander through the hallway and out the door.

* * *

i had a request for sexual tension between harry and buffy... how'd you like it?? and of course, the song harry couldn't get out of his head is credited towards pink... i love her voice. harry, acting like a goof and quoting cagney?? i think? or if you want to be more specific- michaelangelo, teenage mutant ninja turtles, secret of the ooze, when they're going off to find a new place to live and he's saying bye to april... i love that part. he's interupted by rafael pulling him down the manhole. "maybe not today, maybe not tommoroooowww!" 

btw- thank you for all your wonderful reviews... passed a hundred a little while ago and i didn't even document it! i'll have to go back and find out who was my centential reviewer! however you want to put that... whatever! thanks!


	21. the old and the new

"Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket never let it fade away…"

Harry felt the smile stretch across his face as he heard the voice around the corner of the corridor. They were waiting next to a large window, right across from the escalator down to the luggage pick-up, and the hallway from the terminal was hidden until the very end. But he could hear the exited voice of Ron, complaining loudly to Hermione about how insane muggles were, flinging themselves voluntarily across the ocean in a metal tube.

"I can't believe we survived!" The complaint intermingled with the song so that it sounded like,

Catch a-

Insane pilot-

and put it in your pocket-

and the bloody awful-

star and put it

Up the attendants-

rainy day-

Forget ever doing this again!

"Ron, shove off!" Hermione had obviously pushed him as he came stumbling around the corner.

"Harry!" he yelped, and then jumped over to wrap his arms around his friend.

Harry, however, could only watch as Ginny came into view, then smirked and leaned against the wall. She'd been singing, but started humming instead, as she watched.

Hermione pulled Ron away, and then hugged Harry herself. He managed to tear his eyes away from Ginny, and buried his head in Hermione's nest of hair.

"Hello," she squeezed and pulled away.

"Hey yourself," he smiled and ruffled her hair. "I thought you told me you were going to chop all this off." He ignored Ron's protest.

"I dragged her out of that house of horrors myself mate! I can't believe muggles go into those places! Scary."

"She chickened out," Ginny walked over, grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her away. The she reached for Harry. He held out his arms to give her a hug, but she had a different idea. Harry didn't hear Xander's giggling; he was concentrating too hard on Ginny's lips.

She'd wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his lips toward her own. Apparently, sometime during the proceeding snog, Harry had grabbed her hips, pulling her in closer.

"You know, I think he's over that, "it's for your own good" phase," Ron commented to Hermione under his breath as she joined Xander's mad giggling. Of course, watching your best friend and little sister making out was only something he could do for so long. Clearing his throat in an annoyed manner had no effect, so he was forced to tap Harry on the head rather forcefully.

"Huh?" obviously his brain hadn't engaged yet as he surfaced for air. Ginny rested her head against his chest as Harry's eyes cleared and his expression became intelligent again.

While Ron dealt with the dazed duo, Hermione reached over and offered Xander a hand. "Hi, I'm Hermione, and I'm assuming you're Alexander?"

"Just Xander, nice to meet you," he accepted her hand and nodded over at the trio. "Help a guy out here? I thought it was just you and Ron coming?"

"We didn't want to give Harry the chance to run off," Hermione smiled at the confused expression. "After sixth year Harry broke up with Ginny because he was afraid that she would get hurt while he was dealing with Voldemort. Even after it was all over with he was staying away from her. I figured it was just him being a moron…" she nodded to herself in satisfaction; Harry's arm was around Ginny's waist, her thumb hooked in his back pocket. "And it looks like I was right."

"Are you always right?" Xander got a distinctive _Willow vibe_ from the brunette.

"I'm right often enough that the exceptions are truly disturbing."

_Yep_, Xander thought, _Willow vibe_ indeed.

* * *

Xander had figured that even picking up only two people would constitute a van instead of a sedan; luggage tends to take up space. Imagine his surprise when the group indicated that they were ready to go without heading down the escalator into the luggage pick-up. 

"Where are your bags?"

"In my pocket, duh," Ginny patted her jeans pocket, Xander couldn't figure out how she could fit a credit card in those tight things, let alone a bag.

"Shrinking charms," Harry muttered as he led the way toward the parking garage.

"Nice."

"Handy," Hermione agreed.

Harry handed Ginny into the back of the van first, scooting in beside her as Ron jumped into the middle seat, leaving Hermione the front. He wasn't going to watch the muggle driving, it was scary enough trusting his father to a car, and he didn't know Xander yet. Hermione settled in, giving him a knowing smirk, and started asking Xander questions about the Slayers.

"Harry tells me that they're magically enhanced?"

"The way the story goes is that at the dawning of time, when people lived in tribes, demons roamed the earth. One tribe set about to create a creature that could combat demons, so they basically infused a girl with demonic powers. So she could be as fast, strong, and magically neutral, as a demon. That way they could fight the demons and not be harmed; as each girl died, another was called in her place, and so on and so forth, yadda-yadda."

"Sounds dangerous, the actual spell must have required much power," Hermione was starting to think out loud, Ron recognized it as her "I must go to a library and research" voice.

"I'm sure that the Wicca could answer your questions 'Mione," Ron put in, to forestall her direct descent into a pile of books at the first opportunity.

"Willow would be more than happy to exchange information with you; she actually can hardly wait to meet you."

"I brought everything I could think of for researching your eye. I had a lot of material left over from when we were trying to help Ron." Hermione let her hand reach backwards between the seats to grab for Ron's. He smiled at her and winked. He rather liked his glass eyes; he didn't blame her for his inability to regrow a new one.

"Even if we can't, I've got an entire new line of magically enhanced glass eyes to show ya. I must say, even if I hadn't made them myself, they are impressive."

Ginny, in the back, leaning against Harry with his lips right against her ear, smiled. Her brother had been bragging about his eyes to anyone who would listen. She could feel Harry's chuckle against her hair.

"How long was that?"

"Ten minutes."

"Tonks won the pot. She estimated between nine and twelve minutes until Ron started hawking his eyes."

"Harry!" Ron reached back to smack his friends knee. "Insensitive moron," he grumbled as Ginny started laughing.

Xander had to laugh with them, he found himself enjoying Harry and Ron's dynamic. He pulled into the neighborhood and muttered over at Hermione.

"They always like this?"

"Of course, we all went to the same boarding school; it makes you closer than family in some ways."

"I can see that," Xander nodded, glancing into the back seats from the rearview mirror. Ron wasn't looking at Harry; he was just waving his hand wildly, hitting his sister more than his friend. He smacked Ginny on the knee, only to have her protest and smack him in the back of his head. Hard. Xander pulled into the driveway and parked in front of the door. Hopping out, he made it around the hood of the van to open Hermione's door for her.

"And here I thought chivalry was dead."

"It's not dead, I'm right here!" Ron protested, jerking an eyebrow up at Xander. "Sorry mate, she's spoken for." He clapped Xander on the shoulder with a smile. Xander just shook his head, amused despite himself. He was about to close the side door when he realized he was missing a couple of people. Sticking his head into the open door he had to clear his throat harshly to attract Harry's attention.

Ginny pulled her lips away and blushed slightly when she realized Xander was grinning at them.

"We're coming…"

"Go away Xander, we'll be there in a minute," Harry pulled Ginny back, not letting her off his lap.

"Ginny, do I have to beat him up?"

"You might," she giggled as Harry rolled his eyes and let her go.

"Fine, ruin all my fun."

"There will be time for fun later Harry. I heard rumors of chocolate cake now," she stuck out her tongue and jumped out of the van as Xander laughed at Harry's chagrin.

"Foiled by mine own cake," he shook his head. "Quite sad, really."

* * *

"Mmm, okay now, down to business," Hermione sat on the long couch in the library, hastily swallowed chocolate and icing, then wiped her bottom lip with her thumb. Ron sat next to her, a considerably larger piece of cake still only half way eaten, with Ginny sitting next to him with a large chunk of icing yet to meticulously lick off her fork. 

Harry rolled his eyes and settled on the couch arm next to Ginny, Xander on the comfy big chair, his cake had been devoured, but Buffy and Willow were savoring their chocolate.

"And which business would that be Hermione, we have several things to pow-wow over," Xander pointed out.

"Yes, but at this point I don't think anyone would be put out if I could do a preliminary on your eye," Hermione smiled as the Scooby gang paused, still skeptical.

"If you could do anything Hermione, we'd appreciate it," Willow nodded over to Xander. "We'd really love it."

"All right then, Ron," she looked over as Ron shoved a huge forkful of pastry into his mouth.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, for heavens sake Ron! Just give the man your wand," she tried not to laugh, but was failing miserably at his innocent expression.

"Htorr?"

"What for? So we can see if he's magical at all," she shook her head. "I mean, really Ron, didn't you pay the least bit of atten-"

"Ron, give her the wand before she starts lecturing, please," Harry considered smacking his friend, but he'd have to shift and Ginny's head resting on his knee was too comfortable.

"And before you ask, do you really think that Xander would get good results with vine wood? Remember what happened when you used my wand? Fireworks, all over the place! George and Fred thought it was all good fun, but there are a lot of books in here."

"Fine woman! I wasn't actually going to object, but you… you need to take a deep breath, calm down," he got up before she had a chance to retaliate and met Xander halfway across the carpet. "Here, just take it in your dominant hand and wave it… gently," he handed Xander his chestnut and dragon heartstring wand, and stood back.

"Just wave it?"

"Gently, mate."

Xander gripped the wand and took a deep breath. Raising his arm, he made a tapping motion and let out his breath. At first nothing happened, it seemed as if nothing would, but on the upstroke they could hear something. It was faint at first, like two voices high and low, mumbling. Then it got louder, laughing, low and steady, high and a bit manic. Xander grinned, joining in the laughter, three voices harmonized strangely. Hermione cleared her throat and waved her wand, swishing it with a low incantation.

"_Desino_," the laughter cut off, Xander chuckled a bit before handing the wand back to Ron.

"That was unusual," Ron commented, looking at his wand.

"I think it has more to do with Xander's aura then any magical talent. You were right Harry, it's a little confused," Hermione stood, then brought Xander back to his chair. "Do you mind if I scan you?"

"Scan? Like an x-ray?"

"Sort of a magical version of one, yes. Only instead of bones, I'll read your aura signature," she explained as Ron went back to the couch to finish his cake.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Not at all, it's a very passive spell."

Xander looked over at Willow, and then groaned. He didn't have to ask her opinion, she was almost off the couch watching, waiting for a new magical experience. She'd been going nuts; trying to ask Harry questions and having him shrug off answers. He really didn't care how magic worked, as long as it did. He'd been telling the red-head that she'd have to wait for Hermione to answer most of her questions.

"Do what you will!" he threw up his hands and sat, waiting as her hands went to the top of his head.

"Do you have anything you want to tell me? Or should I just be surprised?"

"I don't think anyone in my head will hurt you, as long as you don't hurt them," he replied, seriously.

"Well, I won't give them any chance to attack," before anyone could question that odd exchange, Hermione had muttered a quiet poem, and sunk her consciousness into Xander's.

"**Two dreams came down to earth one night  
From the realm of mist and dew;  
One was a dream of the old, old days,  
And one was a dream of the new**_."_

_Hermione found herself walking along a quiet pathway, through a forest with large trees. The trees were so huge that she couldn't even see the branches, and only a few streams of sunlight broke through the canopy. Yet even in the darkness, she felt safe, as though nothing would ever hurt her as long as she stayed on the path. She could hear a couple of birds in the distance, calling out to each other through the green light, the scuttling of small forest rodents at the bushes near her feet. _

**One was a dream of a shady lane  
That led to the pickerel pond  
Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves  
To the brown old hills beyond.**

_As she followed the path she found herself at a pond, paused when she realized she was no longer alone. An older man, dressed in military fatigues, sat next to the pond under a willow tree. He was cleaning an old shot gun, pieces laid scattered and gleaming in the sun that broke free from the taller trees around the water. _

**And the people that peopled the old-time dream  
Were pleasant and fair to see,  
And the dreamer he walked with them again  
As often of old walked he.**

_"I've always loved that poem, young lady," his eyes were bright blue and kind. He finished reassembling his shot gun and got to his feet. He started walking along the lake, Hermione joined him. _

"_Who are you?" He smiled._

"_I'm a figment of your imagination," he chuckled, Hermione recognized the lower laugh from the wand. _

"_Well, you're obviously in Xander's head, does he know you're in here?"_

"_Yes, he's known for years. Even if we could be separated, I don't think we'd want to be," he patted Hermione on the head, kindly, like an uncle might. "We're used to each other now. An accident brought us together, but I think it was the best for both of us. I wouldn't exist, and he'd be dead by now if not for my experience." _

"_Co-dependant then?"_

"_As much as we can be, I suppose." _

_Hermione jerked around when she heard the higher laugh. Slightly manic, the sun suddenly switched to cold bright moonlight._

**The other dream ran fast and free,  
As the moon benignly shed**_…_

_It was larger than a dog, scruffier than a mountain cat, long in the snout and sharp teeth. Yet it merely stood, as if studying her, and then cautiously approached with his high pitch giggle._

_Hermione held out her hand, slowly, and let the animal sniff. He considered for a moment, and licked her palm gently. _

"_A hyena, he's actually been here longer than I have. We fought quite a bit in the old days."_

**And 't was a dream of the busy world  
Where valorous deeds are done;  
Of battles fought in the cause of right,  
And of victories nobly won.**

"_Would he wish to leave?" Hermione asked the older man, but stopped when the hyena growled. _

"_I would say he enjoys the young master's mind. It's very peaceful here, except for when it's not. But we do have a bit of a situation, if you'll follow me?" He took her arm; the hyena fell into step beside the man. Hermione paused at the beginning of a new path, and looked into the forest. Where the moonlight had been comforting, the cold light in the new area was icy. It felt threatening, even before she followed the old man in. _

_She shivered, and felt the anger of the forest as the man cocked his shotgun. _

"_What is this place?"_

"_The last major battle we fought left scars on the young man's heart. They've been steadily disappearing, repairing themselves, but this bit is stubborn. I was hoping that we could get rid of it before it became permanent, like myself and the poodle here," he smirked as the hyena growled at him. Its hackles were raised, it was giggling nervously to itself. _

"_So you need to show me, because you think I might be able to help him?" _

"_You've got a healing heart young lady, if anyone can; I think it'd be you. I had hopes for the young Wicca, but she is still too hesitant, that could be bad for this. It would sense any weakness and attack." _

"_I will do my best, Sir." _

"_Call me Sarge."_

"_Sarge, then," Hermione smiled, despite the gloom that surrounded. _

"_And call the mutt, Bouda." _

"_Bouda?" Hermione searched her memory for a reference, but gave up as the hyena switched sides and bumped against her knee. Not really thinking about it she reached down and scratched between his ears. She relaxed a bit as Bouda giggled; the darkness was no longer as oppressive. But when she straightened at the end of the path, the cold came rushing back. _

**It breathed no breath of the dear old home  
And the quiet joys of youth;  
It gave no glimpse of the good old friends  
Or the old-time faith and truth.**

_In front of them, sitting in a circular clearing, was a young boy. He watched the group with black eyes, no white, and no reflection. His hair was long and black, braided down his back. His smile was full of sharp teeth and bloody lips. He set the squirrel he was torturing aside, and winked at Hermione as it ran away._

_"__Pouvez-vous me blesser?" his voice was more like a whisper than a solid sound. _

"_I can try," Hermione replied, aiming her wand carefully. _

_"__Vous pouvez échouer," he smirked._

_"Or I could free my friend of you forever, would you care to test me?" _

_"Vous inquiéteriez-vous pour mourir?"_

_"Invalesco sanitas!" Hermione shot out, a brilliant green flowed from her wand, surrounding the young boy in a glowing bubble. Almost immediately Hermione felt the oppressive surroundings shudder in relief. _

_"What did you do girl?" Sarge asked as Bouda nudged her knee enthusiastically. _

_"Not a healing, if that was your question," the boy sat in the middle of the bubble, mouthing swear words in French Hermione was sure. Sound proof, she couldn't hear it, but he was not happy. "Basically I bought myself some time. He's trapped for a good long while, hopefully long enough to heal some of the forest around him. The better I can get his mind, the better his body will accept an eye." Hermione strengthened the wards so that nothing short of a magical a-bomb could put a hole in the bubble, then turned to give the soldier a hug. _

_"Thank you young lady, I hope to meet with you again, shortly," he patted the hyena on his head and went to sit next to the bubble, for all intents and purposes, guarding now that he had something to guard. The hyena jumped up and rested its paws on Hermione's shoulders, licking her cheek before he turned and ran into the forest. _

**Yet of the love we bore those dreams  
Gave each his tender sign;  
For there was triumph in his eyes--  
And there were tears in mine!**

Hermione opened her eyes, tears streaming down as she lifted her hand to her cheek. Xander looked as if he'd just gotten rid of a headache he didn't know he had.

"You have some very interesting friends in there Xander."

"Don't I know it."

* * *

I cut the poem apart a bit, though if you'd like to read it whole, it's by Eugene Field, a really talented poet. The french used by the boy is in this order- Can you hurt me? - You can fail.- Would you care to die? - just remember that I used an online translator, so it may not be 100 accurate. And if you want to know why he speaks french... I just don't know, its a beautiful language, but it was the only one I thought might sound sinister! (aHA!)

btw- longest update yet. over 3,000 words! I've wowed myself!

(the incantation Hermione uses can basically translate to : to gather strength, soundness of mind.)


	22. story time

i took a few liberties with the whole bloody baron story... seeing as how i was horribly off on the horocruxes i figured nobody would really mind... that being said, enjoy!

* * *

"A boy?" Ron nudged his sister's knee and exchanged a quick glance with Harry.

"Yes, Ron, the black braid," Hermione shook her head and sat on the floor in front of Xander. Now that she knew what she was dealing with, she was more than a little apprehensive. It wasn't that she thought they couldn't fix the problem, it was more like she was uncertain of the cost.

"Does anyone want to share with the rest of the class?" Buffy asked, injecting the bemused faces of the others assembled into the conversation. Even Ginny was more in the dark than she'd like. She hadn't heard the whole story of the horocruxes yet, Ron had told her most of it was Harry's to tell.

"It was the dagger. Helga Hufflepuff's dagger, that I found him playing with. He was a ghost, killed by his father, after his mothers bloody death," Harry stood and helped Hermione to her feet, setting her on the couch next to Ron. "You see, where we went to school, ghosts were a common. One of them was named the Bloody Baron, he'd gone insane and killed in a jealous rage. What most of the castle didn't know was that he'd also killed their child, a child that came after he'd raped her. He was young, had a brilliant mind, magic in abundance, and a cruel streak that rivaled his fathers. He'd started small, with animal mutilations, then he'd discovered his magic and worked his way up to the family's house elves. His mother was the daughter of one of the schools founders, Hufflepuff. He'd used a dagger that was passed down from her, one infused with magic in a way nobody has since understood or duplicated. After he'd been killed, the dagger had been lost, or so it had seemed. It was found again by Thomas Riddle, and he recognized it for the heredity it held, but not what it had been used for. He infused a piece of his soul into it, which brought the dagger a sentience of its own, combined with whatever it had picked up from the boy. The next hands it found it's way into had been muggle. He went insane and killed his entire family with it, skinning them slowly, as they begged for mercy. It was in circulation for almost twenty years, found by scholars and mistakenly believed to belong to Merlin, recently being held in a showcase in many cities, including Sunnydale, then being moved right before the big quake, back to England, where I found it and destroyed it."

"Merlin's dagger?" Xander groaned and smacked his forehead, letting his body fall to the carpet limply in plain exasperation. "I knew that stupid thing would bite my ass."

"What happened Xander?" Hermione leaned forward, anxious for any new information.

"We were fighting this thing, called the First, as in the First Original Evil. BFD, anyway, one of the many, many, many, fights we had was in the historical society. I needed a weapon, there was this dagger," Xander scoffed at himself. "I should know better than to pick up weird looking ceremonial daggers by now, but it was pointy and I was in a bit of a rough situation. So I took it, and I stabbed one of the black robes, then I turned on Willow."

Willow stood and dropped on her knees next to her friend, letting his hand rest on her knee. "Thank gods I saw the danger in time. He was stalking toward me, his eyes were black on black, and with my association with magic we all know that is not a good sign," she shrugged. "So I tossed a lightning bolt at him, he dropped the dagger, and we finished cleaning house. I guess we just figured it was an attempt at mind control from the First, we didn't go back for the dagger after we'd left because we didn't see any connection at the time."

"It's a good thing you bloody well didn't!" Ron shot out, "That thing had me in it's grasp for a half second, I'd never felt dirtier before, or since!"

"More than likely it's time in Sunnydale, so close to it's Hellmouth, activated it or brought out more than it's normal malevolence. And a piece of it is still stuck in Xander's mind. I've bubbled it, Sarge and Bouda are watching the boy now," Hermione smiled gently. "If you've been having nightmares you can't explain, he's probably the reason why. I expect you'll get a good nights sleep tonight." She paused, yawning.

"I'll show you to your rooms, you must be exhausted," Willow got to her feet after squeezing Xander's hand. "After all, it's nearly eleven and you're all still five hours ahead of us!"

"Thank you Willow, I'm sure we'll all get a good night's sleep, we'll be ready to go bright and early!" She sounded more than ready to canvas the library, Harry and Ron each rolled their eyes.

"We put you in suites in the basement. Harry is sharing Xander's room, but I didn't ask… Harry, did you want to move to the basement?"

"No, I'm fine where I'm at. Xander's a good roommate, doesn't snore," Harry shrugged, he'd gotten used to privacy at home, but he was well aware of his preference not to be alone.

"Good, cause there are only two rooms sides Andrew's, so either Ginny's sharing a dorm with the Slayerettes or Hermione and Ron have to fess up." Harry chuckled at the blush that deepened Ron's pale cheeks.

"Go ahead and say it mate, I promise I won't be angry," Harry nudged his friend with his foot.

"Ron proposed a week ago Harry, we wanted to tell you in person," Hermione held out her hand for Ron to take, and then kissed him gently.

"Well it's about bloody time," Harry got to his feet and hugged his friends fully, yanking the chain over Hermione's neck and letting the diamond ring dangling on it in the fire light. It bounced tiny sparkles everywhere, delicate and somehow sturdy with all its filigree, it suited Hermione down to the bone. "Wear that now, so everyone knows." He kissed her forehead and laughed when Ron took the ring and slid it proprietarily over her finger.

"Now I just have to figure out how to tell my mother…" Ron sighed, and then shrugged when Harry smacked his shoulder.

"She doesn't know? You told me before you told your mother? She'd going to kill you."

"She's never going to find out mate, though I wouldn't put it past the twins to tell her, just to make my life difficult."

"You win some," Harry looked over at Hermione who was now showing Willow and Buffy the ring, then clapped his friend companionably on the shoulder he'd just hit. "You loose some."

* * *

_It was a dream he'd had before. He recognized the blue flowers in his windows; and the smiling group of people in the park across the street. His friends were all sitting in the shade of a few trees, teasing each other while he'd offered to go get them all lemonade. _

_Buffy sat with the twins, each falling over themselves to compliment her, while Ginny sat with Xander, teasing him gently about his new girlfriend. Hermione and Willow lounged, staring up at the bright blue sky while Ron was lounging next to them, passed out and snoring loudly. _

"_Are you coming Harry or what?" her voice was giggly as he felt her grab his hand, linking their fingers. Ginny looked over and smirked. His hand closed around her fingers and turned to follow her into the house…_

Harry blinked, staring at the ceiling while he yawned deeply. It wasn't too far in the future, he knew; if it was a precedent. No one looked markedly older, and really the only differences had been Xander's two eyes and Hermione's wedding ring.

Really his only question was, who is that girl?


	23. the beginning of the end

_enjoy_

* * *

He closed his eyes again, only to open them as Ginny sat on the side of his bed. 

"Ginny? What are you doing here?" Not that he really minded, but Xander was catching Z's next to them, he didn't want to wake the guy up. He smiled as he recognized the bubble charm Ginny erected and sat up against the headboard. "So what is so important that you had to sneak up here?"

"This is the only place Ron won't think to look for me, and I needed to talk to you."

"At three in the morning... All right."

"Harry, I like kissing you," she started off boldly, as if she'd been practicing saying that for a while.

"I like kissing you too," Harry admitted, a slight smile on his face now that he knew what she was doing.

"If I asked you what went after that what would you say?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly Harry, I know I can trust you for that."

"I'm not sure. Ginny, I feel content when you're around. I don't have to worry about my next move, because I know you'll always be there for me. I get nervous and angry if I think you'll not like me for whatever reason; it's a major concern that I'll always have you in my life."

"And you feel like that about Ron, and Hermione," She stated.

"But I don't like kissing them," he smirked as she shook her head, a little smile on her lips.

"Really, neither do I."

"That's wrong on so many levels; I don't even know where to start."

"Then don't. Harry, do you love me?"

"Of course I love you, Ginny," insulted that she even had to ask, but knowing where she was heading he continued. "I'll always love you, no matter what."

"But you don't love me like you'd want to marry me," she took his hand confidently.

"Ginny," Harry stopped when she placed a warm finger on his lips and kissed him gently.

"You don't, and to tell you the truth, if you asked me, I'd say no."

"Which was one reason I wasn't going to ask you, you know."

"Yeah, I love you Harry, but not enough to spend the rest of my life in very close proximity."

"So we've figured it all out then, have we?"

"I hoped that maybe once I saw you again it would bring back that happy rush."

"I know the one you mean."

"I've really had a huge crush on you, even before I knew who you were, remember?"

"You tripped over your own feet chasing the train down," he kissed her gently and pulled her down in his arms as he settled back against his pillows. She nudged him over a bit, spreading out over the blankets as he closed his eyes, balancing her somewhat like a giant teddy bear in his arms. "I'm all different kinds of sexy, aren't I?"

He grunted when she punched his abs; scowling a little he rubbed his tummy with his free hand.

"A little conceited are we?"

"Just realistic," he smirked. "Girls in Great Britain and everywhere will wonder how you ever let me go."

"I could tell them that you have horrendous toe jam." She shut up when he kissed the top of her head.

"Or I could tell them that I broke up with you. You're way too clingy you know," he adjusted his arms, almost squeezing the life from her until she tapped out, smacking his chest with a resounding slap. "Owww!" he protested.

"Just go to sleep you dork."

"I resemble that remark," he joked, yawning. She stood up, kissing his forehead, then canceled the bubble charm.

"Good night sweet prince," she smirked.

"Night Ginny," Harry mumbled as sleep began to overtake him. "I'll make pancakes in the morning." He chuckled at her before he let sleep take hold.

"Sweet," she said before letting the door close on her way out.

* * *

_It felt indescribably healthier as he walked through the forest. Birds were chirping, little mammals were fiddling around under the cover of twigs and leaves, bushes rustled in response and the leaves waved gently in a clean, cool breeze. The light streamed through the openings in the canopy, and he could swear he heard humming cheerfully, off to his left. _

"_So you finally come for a visit?" his voice was gravely from too much life, but his tone was teasing. _

"_Hey Sarge," Xander grinned as he turned. The white haired old man sat against a tree trunk, one hand on the wicked hunting knife at his thigh, the other on Bouda. The hyena lay with his chin on Sarge's knee; his yellow eyes watched Xander with barely hidden glee. His tail thumped the ground like a puppy's. _

_They were in the clearing with the bubble trapped child. The kid just glared at Xander as he sat nest to Sarge, his back to the tree. Xander reached over to scratch Bouda's neck, giggled when the hyena licked his wrist. _

"_I couldn't visit, for a while. I just thought it was because we were away from the Hellmouth," he took it philosophically when Sarge cuffed him upside the head. _

"_Idjit," he muttered. "But I suppose with all the wee ones about you had other things on your mind. Deployment is tricky in the best of circumstances, I know. You also enjoyed your summer in Afrika, god forsaken continent, glad I missed out." He continued muttering for a good while, Xander merely listened with half an ear, devoting the rest of his attention to their canine friend. It wasn't that he'd been ignoring his other sides, he just hadn't noticed that they hadn't pushed into his life as often as they had been in Sunnydale. So many things had changed since then. He knew he was more confident in his self now than he ever had been before his eye had been taken from him. He no longer saw himself as a tagger-on to the more mystic minded of his friends. He had his place, he was content in it, and now he felt ready to integrate his other "downloaded" personalities, for lack of a better word. _

"_Harry has this idea," he said when Sarge had wound down. "He wants to give me my eye back." _

"_That's a good plan, the pretty bushy-head going to help out? That little girl packed a serious wallop on our friend there." He gestured with his knife, suddenly holding an apple and cutting it into quarters. He cored three of them, handing one to Xander, giving Bouda the whole quarter, putting one in his mouth before tossing the final cored quarter into the bubble. The black haired boy glared, but picked up the apple, eating it reluctantly. _

"_You…"_

"_We can give him things, but he can't get out. It's a good deal. I think that by giving him sustenance every once in a while, he won't be more motivated to try and break out." _

"_Good idea." _

"_Yep."_

_Bouda got to his feet and shook his head negligently. He padded over to the edge of the forest, like he was looking for something, than darted in disappearing from sight. _

"_He's getting restless, you'll be waking up soon," Sarge got to his feet and looked down at Xander. "It was good talking to you again kid. Stop by anytime."_

Xander opened his eye, blinked up at the ceiling, and looked over at the lump the next bed over. Getting to his feet he rubbed a hand over his empty eye socket and yawned. It was early, really early. He felt the irrational urge to just go downstairs and use the punching bag. Without really thinking about it, still half asleep, he left the room and started downstairs, his eye patch forgotten on the table next to his bed.


	24. are you ready to rock?

hope you have fun, i really am... oh, and the only reason i'm not detailing the research is that i find detailing research to be horribly boring, i find myself falling asleep as i type. oh woe is me.

ok, i've been informed that i misrepresented an interesting part, so i've fixed it and added a bit... thank you to "me" (not a joined member apparently) who pointed it out.

* * *

Ron was staring up at the ceiling, up at the stickers someone had placed up there. Glow-in-the-dark stars and planets gave the dim room a haze of the other-worldly, Ron had been a bit confused until Hermione had explained the concept to him. Now he found himself just watching the little stickers, unable to go back to sleep.

Hermione mumbled something in her sleep, he just grinned when he realized she was chiding him for his study-habits. He ran a hand down her bare shoulder, down her elbow to her hand, then linked his in hers for a moment. He was so incredibly lucky to have her, even when she was critical of him, he knew she loved him. It was an interesting feeling, having someone love him, and only him, that way. He loved his parents, and his siblings, but he knew that the love he had for Hermione was like an eclipse to that love. It was a one to one thing, and he basked in that feeling whenever she would let him.

"Honestly Ron… Hogwarts; A History… didn't you ever pay attention…"

He leaned over to kiss her cheek before untangling his hand from hers and sitting up. He heard a slight thumping sound out past his door. He grabbed a small wooden case from the nightstand and proceeded toward the hall.

Xander was steadily pounding his taped fists into the padded punching bag. Every once in a while he would step into the punch, pivot and kick out in one fluid movement, then go back to a steady one-two punch. Ron watched, leaning against the mirrored wall, aware that Xander knew he was there, but not saying anything until the man stopped jabbing the bag.

"You couldn't sleep either huh?"

"Naw, sometimes you just get the urge to hit something."

"Yep, know that feeling," Ron indicated his hollow socket, then pointed out at Xander's. Suddenly realizing he wasn't wearing his patch he smirked when he noticed that Ron wasn't wearing a fake eyeball.

Two men, remarkably similar in their absolute normality amongst their friends, both smiled at the feeling of kinship.

"I'll tell you mine, you tell yours," Xander offered.

"Not too remarkable mate; we stumbled across a Death Eater who liked souvenirs. He started by threatening Hermione, then came after me with an enchanted spoon after I told him his mother wears army boots," he had to pause as Xander laughed. "I heard that insult from a Scottish friend of mine, I still don't get it, but it pissed the guy off enough he forgot about Hermione."

"A priest took mine."

"A priest," Ron gaped. "Really?"

"An evil, misogynistic, defrocked priest who believed that since I see so much, he'd lessen the odds of me seeing anything that would help my friends."

"Bloody-hell."

"Yep, lots of blood."

"Well, we'll just pick you out a nice eye then, to hold you over 'til Hermione finds a solution," Ron walked over and presented the wooden box he'd held in his hand to Xander. "You'll like these, I promise."

* * *

Harry was laughing as he prepared waffle batter. Buffy could hear him down the hall, and could only hear the distinct muttering of Xander in full babble mode between the gasping laughter. 

"So then Giles told me not to taunt the tiny fear demon and I'm just like, "Why? Can it hurt me?" and Giles cleaned his glasses and said, "Well, no, it's just tacky." Then Buffy lifted her foot and squashed it!"

"Tacky?" Harry let his head fall back and let loose a terrific barrage of laughter.

"Yeah, and then, later he was looking at the book he used to research and he was all can't-get-over-the-caption."

"I'm going to regret this," Ron said, but couldn't stop himself. "What did it say?"

"Under a picture of the demon, it said, _Actual Size,_" as Buffy stepped into the kitchen she saw Ron had his head against the counter, crying at the force of his laughing.

"Hey, Halloween is no joke soldier boy," she scowled as she went to the fridge and pulled out an orange juice carton.

"I was just telling them about that, which prompted more Halloween stories, ect you know?" Xander pulled a glass from the high cabinet and smiled down at his Slayer. She patted his cheek indulgently and turned around to pour her juice before gasping and spinning toward her friend once more. He mumbled out a protest as she grabbed his face and brought it down to her level.

"You've got a smiley face in your eye socket," she accused.

"Isn't it awesome?" Xander grinned as she released him, and then gestured toward Ron. Ron was wearing a frowny face.

"Unfortunately with his taint we can't calibrate it so he can see from it, but I thought he'd like that one. He vetoed the black one, said it gave him "wiggins"."

"Dude, that black one, the one with the yellow irises, and the teddy bear are creepy. Don't even know why you make those ones." Harry went back to preparing toppings for breakfast, tuning out of the creepy eye-ball conversation.

Once everyone had left for their tasks that day, Harry insisted on seeing the city, maybe some of the areas around it. He told Hermione that she was supposed to be on vacation, so she might as well give up and enjoy her self.

"But I want to get this over with, I want Xander to get his eye back. We'll go out afterwards, when he's recovering, you go on ahead with Ron, Ginny and I will stay back and research." Ginny apparently agreed and followed Hermione back to the library.

"I'll drive you guys around, we'll make it a guys day or whatever," Xander offered. There were finally guys in the house, besides Andrew who didn't count, and he was ready for a little male bonding.

"Sounds great. What's first oh native guide?" Ron asked as he shimmied on a jacket.

"How about The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?"

* * *

"The Blank Generation- includes the _Sex Pistols_, of whom I had to listen way too much of not too long ago," Xander waved a hand at the wall cluttered with memorabilia. "Thanks to a British vamp with a "an it harm none" chip in his head." Xander was an entertaining tour guide, muttering not only about the bands and songs themselves, but also about each one of his acquaintances preferences as well. Once he showed Ron how to access the touch screen computers that could riffle five-hundred of the "most influential" rock songs though, they'd lost the red-head. He'd growled at them, insisting that once he'd actually heard the songs Xander was talking about he might have more appreciation for the museum. He'd been a bit puzzled as to why some of his favorite bands were absent from the walls. Harry pointed out that the _Weird Sisters_ weren't a muggle band, and this was obviously a muggle museum. 

After they'd tooled around for a couple of hours, mostly debating musical preferences like heavy metal vs blues, which was given up after they'd realized the basic similarities in each, Xander insisted it wasn't a vacation without eating at the Hard Rock, which lead to Ron asking about the different alcoholic beverages, which lead to him being carded for the first time in his life. Xander had to force himself to stop laughing in order to explain to Ron why the waitress was asking for his id. The guy had just been blinking up at the cute blond in utter confusion. Harry, who'd been in the states longer than Ron and knew what was up, left it to their American friend, mostly because he wanted to see how badly Ron could get confused by the babbling Xander.

"You have to be over twenty-one to drink in the states," Xander started.

"So what, she thinks I'm ten?"" Ron pulled his passport from his pocket and handed it to the blond.

"No, but if you look under twenty-seven, she has to card you," Xander took pity on the poor blond, and opened the passport to the correct page. She was looking at it like she'd never seen a passport before.

"When I was tall enough to stand behind a bar without being on tip-toes, I could drink at any pub, I've never had to prove my age before," Ron admitted with a shrug.

"I don't think I can take this?" the blond shrugged, "do you have a drivers license?"

"Of course not! You bloody muggles and your metal death traps on wheels!" he grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest. "Why can't you use that?" he asked from base curiosity.

"Because, there is no seventeenth month!" she exclaimed triumphantly, flipping the passport around so they all could see it.

"I was born on March seventeenth, that's a day, not a month." Ron blinked, confused.

"Nope, months come before days, this is a very poor forgery," she nodded as Xander felt his held in chuckle start to bubble forth. Harry wasn't wasting any time trying not to laugh. Tears were already streaming down his face.

"Darling, I'm from England, where we write the months and days in correct order, that is the seventeenth of March, 1980, I am the current age of twenty-five, legally able to drink in your country for four years now," Ron was forcing himself to take deep breaths, and reminding himself that if he didn't get a "Great Ball of Fire" it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Though, right now, he really wanted a drink.

"I'm going to have to ask my supervisor. I'll just put your guy's order in while I do that, k?" she asked pertly as she twirled around, still one hundred percent sure of her objection.

Ron just sat for a few minutes, blinking. Harry, after wiping the tears from his eyes, smirked at the forced calm on Ron's face, and nearly set himself off again by glancing at Xander. Xander was staring fixedly at his hands, his mouth twitching like an insane person had grabbed the ends and started stretching.

"All I really want to know at this point," Ron said calmly after he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Is why," he looked over at Harry. "Why didn't she card you?"

* * *

oh, and i know that ron's b-d is the first of march, but i really, _really_ wanted to use this joke!! that is where the AU element pops into existence, as if this wasn't already AU 


	25. make me a match

I apologize for the long, long wait. hopefully this will make sense to you, seeing as how i'm typing it up at 6 am, and i'm really not a morning person. It took me a little while to really realize what i'm doing with this story, because i introduced so many more plot twists than i really think i have a handle on myself. just to let you know, as soon as this is done, i'm going to take the entire thing and do a complete overhaul, because yes, i know i've messed up some, as some people have pointed out (and if you do have something negative to say, make it constructive please). though the majority of you are all awesome, and i adore every one of you. thank you for being so patient. enjoy.

* * *

"Well, I don't think it was that funny." Ron mumbled after lunch was over, that the incident wasn't anything to have conniptions over.

"At least you got us complimentary appetizers and al-co-hol-ic beverages," Xander pointed out as they left the restaurant. He fished in his pocket for the car keys and waved his other hand absently in the air, as if wiping away the objections.

"And you, Harry," Ron jabbed his friend in the shoulder with his finger. "You said you'd tell me why she didn't card you after we ate, explain now."

"She saw what she expected to see," Harry replied cryptically.

"Ok, even I need help with that one," Xander paused in placing his key in the car lock, leaning against the hood to watch the two friends on the other side. Ron looked like he was about to either punch Harry or burst out laughing.

"So you finally got the hang of it?"

"Sirius's journal was interesting…" Harry looked a bit bashful as he rubbed the back of his neck absently.

"And… still lost here," Xander waved his hand breaking the silence as it stretched.

"Harry's godfather," Ron started to explain, then realized where they were. "Lets get in the car, and I'll tell you on the way home."

"Good idea," Harry agreed.

"All right then," Xander turned the lock, then dodged aside as he felt a slight shift behind him. As the broken window glass rained down on him he was once again horribly grateful for the fact he'd been possessed so many times that he now had an unarguable instinct for keeping himself intact. It had felt, for just a second, like the hyena was gathering and the soldier was calling an about face.

As Ron scampered around the front of the car to reach him, Harry was calling out a repelling charm above the line of their heads. The brick building next to them suddenly had a man sized imprint three feet above the sidewalk. It looked, innocently enough, like a cartoon gag. But as Ron pulled Xander away they were reminded of how innocent it was not. Right where Xander's head had been resting against the car door was now a foot long sheet of metal, ripped from the emergency exit ladder on the building.

"Incendio!" Ron shouted with a wave of his wand. They all heard the curse as something caught fire, then the crack as it apparated away. Harry rushed to his friends and did a quick scanning charm to assure himself that they were both still alive with all limbs attached that should be.

"We're good mate," Ron took the hand Harry held out and got to his feet, repeating the gesture toward Xander.

"Well that was fun," the one-eyed Scooby quipped, then groaned when he got a good look at his car door. "Seriously do they always have to damage the car?" This was the tenth time Xander knew he couldn't fix the problem himself. The guys at his garage were probably going to build a shrine to him and his amazing transportation glitches. Already he'd had six shattered windows, twenty-something arm deep dents, a ripped off tailpipe, hood, trunk lid, three wheels, and radio antennae, and that was just in the past year.

"Sorry mate," Ron grimaced as he took in the damage.

"No need, I'd rather it be the car then my head," Xander sighed, resigned. "Thanks for the save, by the way."

"My pleasure," Ron clapped Xander's shoulder. "After all us pirates need to stick together."

"Arr," Xander absently agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the door mournfully.

"Here, we'll just fix that up for you," Harry waved his wand again, flinging the metal away and into the alley. Ron agreed, waving his wand with a muttered incantation. The jagged hole in the door shrank as the metal around it bent back into shape and melded together seamlessly, leaving only a blank expanse of metal where the paint had chipped off.

"I love you guys," Xander patted the car gently, testing the new repair and then turned just in time to watch as the wizards looked toward the alleyway.

"He's gone mate," Ron tucked his wand back up his sleeve and sighed.

"Yeah, but I've got to wonder now," Harry shrugged. "I don't think that was McNair, he would have taken advantage of the obvious fact we were distract and gone after one of us first. That attack was aimed at Xander."

"Gotta agree with you there," Ron nodded and looked us at the taller man. "So you pissed off any wizards lately?"

* * *

She woke with a gasp, ran her hand over her face and sighed deeply before turning to the bedside table to click on a lamp. His hands had been around her waist, his lips brushing against her own as he drew her into him, against his hips, enveloping her completely. She had felt warm, and oh, so safe in his arms.

She looked over at the clock and sighed again, this time irritated. It was only midnight, and here she was, woken up before even the good part of an erotic dream because something bad had happened. She knew it even before the pounding of feet up her staircase stopped at her door. As it opened she got to her feet and wrapped up in a robe before turning to the young girl waiting on the threshold.

"What happened?" She asked as she followed the girl down the stairs.

"We were patrolling and came across some newbie's, we dusted them quick but Angela was bit by their Sire while we were distracted. I got him, but she's still bleeding pretty bad."

"Emergency field?"

"I patched up as best I could, don't think it hit the artery, but we cut short and sent out Patty and Liza to finish our patrol so I could bring her back here," Libby was still pretty inexperienced, but she taught her girls better safe than sorry.

"You did good," patted Libby's shoulder in comfort and followed the young slayer into the kitchen,

"Dawn, I'm fine," Angela held a dish towel to her shoulder. "It wasn't even a neck bite, Libby's just over reacting."

"Well, I'd rather her over react, than you under react," She grabbed the towel and dabbed a bit at the blood. "Holy water?"

"I dosed it, had Libby dose it, Liza dosed it before she left," Angela scoffed. "I'm surprised I'm not a Saint yet."

"Oh, Saint of the forever smart-mouthed, shut up and let me get this bleeding stopped." Dawn placed her hand an inch over the mangled bite mark and let her breath out, a light green glow now coming from her palm. It hadn't been a bad bite, as Angela said, but Dawn hated the scarring that came from bites, and she would do anything to minimize it. Luckily having studied in here Greece when she and Buffy took their world tour, with a Circle of witches reputed for their innovative energy use, Dawn had figured out how to manipulate her Key. She could do basic healing and small set spells if she concentrated enough. As she finished patching up her slayers she let her mind wonder back to her dream.

As she sat at the kitchen table (having sent the girls to bed) with a cup of tea at her elbow, she wondered why she'd been so disappointed her dream had been interrupted. It wasn't anybody she'd ever met; he'd been completely unknown as far as she knew. She hadn't even really seen his face. She'd never seen his face.

And that was what was bothering her, she realized. She kept having these dreams, about the same guy, for years now. She'd never seen his face though. She had no idea if they were prophetic, or just an overactive imagination. She sighed, leaning her head against her hands and just stared at her tea.

"Fuck it, I'm going back to bed," and though she wasn't expecting it, she was kinda hoping she'd dream again.

* * *

Hermione looked up as Xander walked into the library. She hid a smirk behind a book as he stopped in the doorway to eye the piles of books around her. Not all of them referenced his eye, and she hadn't read all of them yet, but it amused her that most people thought if a book was within her reach, she'd already read it. She'd just taken books off the shelf as she found them interesting, intending to read them later.

"Found a cure for cancer yet?" Xander asked, only half joking.

"Just about," she let him see her smirk then, putting aside the current volume with an air of finality. "Tonks is speaking with Willow about different techniques, I believe we have several that might work if we can call up enough energy that would be compatible to yours."

"How so?"

"Well, you know how I had you use Ron's wand last night instead of mine?"

"Yeah?"

"That's because you're energy output and his are generally the same type, while mine is a bit subtle for your use. Both you and Ron are thinkers, you're the planners of a group, like a General almost I suppose. You could get entire groups of people to follow you for no other reason than you know what needs to be done."

"And because our personality's mesh, our "magic" for lack of a better term, works together?"

"Basically," Hermione nodded. "Harry's got energy enough to spare, but I don't think that it would work as well as we could hope. Harry's always been a schemer, horribly honest enough, but sneaky with it. I think he would hold back without realizing it, probably afraid of a surge that could hurt you. So we need to see if we can mesh some of the Slayers in with some of Ron's magic to make it enough."

"Hmm, I see what you mean, but I don't think you'll have much luck with that. Most Slayers tend to be, what you would call, "Alpha" females. Way too in control, instinctively, to really help, Xander let his hip lean against the desk for a moment as he thought. "But the energy thing… you might want to call Dawnie, she could probably help."

"Dawn?"

"Buffy's sister," Xander nodded. "She's got some healing experience, as well as an organized mind. I'll give her a call; see what she's doing, if maybe she's ready to let one of her Slayers be "boss" for a while. She was talking about that during our last chat."

"Let me know what she says," Hermione went back to her book as he left the room.

"Will do."

* * *

and before i get questions about Ron being a planner, think about it. he's a chess champion, the absolute "normal" guy surrounded by genius and over the top talent. He's competent and loyal, stubborn and likable. Who does that sound like in the Buffy group? Xander? yep, i think so. Even in parts when Ron is a typical teenage boy, who did a messed up love spell in a fit of pique?

any other questions let me know, k?


	26. pieces of the puzzle

ok, i know, i know... no excuse really, just haven't been writing... this is a short update, but there is alot going on... so enjoy!

* * *

"So, do what do I owe the pleasure of an unscheduled call?" her voice was twisted with amusement, almost bouncing with energy.

_"Have you been eating too much candy again? You sound like a pixy-stick."_

"They don't have pixy-sticks in Greece."

_"Dawnster…"_

"All right, I was just showing the girls a basic scan technique. I might have amped it a bit too much. I think I've finished paperwork for things that haven't happened yet. Talk to me, bring me down."

_"You wanna come over and help me regrow an eyeball?"_

"…"

_"Dawnie?"_

"…really?" now she was hesitant, quiet.

_"Really, Harry's got some friends who think they may have a technique that'll work. I just need some clean energy that's compatible with mine since I don't have a magic reserve to draw on. When Hermione explained it to me, it sounded kinda like yours might work."_

"Okay, first you have to explain who Harry is, who Hermione is, and what time you've booked my plane ticket for…"

* * *

Harry was pacing the hallway outside his door when he suddenly realized something that had been nagging the back of his mind for days. Without really thinking about it he hurried down the hallway into the Slayers wing and knocked heavily on a door.

"Harry? Wha-" Mirabel started to ask when Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to a large painting on the hallway wall. It was a nice painting, of another hall which opened out into a courtyard. It was fanciful and reminded Harry of the mostly outdoor villas in Mexico. The fountain at the end and the stucco on the wall confirmed it. Down the other hallway was a painting of a castle hallway, complete with fire sconces on the walls.

"I've been thinking."

"Okay," Mirabel nodded at the crazed eureka look on Harry's face.

"This used to be a Wizarding mansion right?"

"Yeees." Mirabel drew her response out.

"Put your hand on the painting."

"What?"

"Put your hand," Harry grabbed her hand. "On the painting," and slapped it on the bottom right corner. Not surprised in the least when another corridor opened up and presented them with four doors on each side of the hallway.

"What-the?"

"Extra wings! Expanding charms! Requires a blood relative to activate."

"You mean to tell me…" Mirabel grinned as she looked up and down the corridor, to make sure nobody was listening in. Harry smirked, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"You can have your own room."

* * *

"Well, I think, now that I've gotten some information from Xander about the circumstances behind his eye… squishing…" Hermione sighed as she referred to the incident as Xander had insisted on calling it. "That he may have been attacked today because of McNair, but not BY McNair." She waved off the immediate rejections. "Listen to me. We all know that McNair has a few minions, not Death Eaters, or at least those who hadn't become Death Eaters by the end of Voldy's rein. He may have sent them out to take Xander without realizing he'd be with "The-Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived."

And here's why," she flipped open a book on blood rituals and twirled it around so the others could see.

"That's a resurrection spell," Ginny pointed out, not noticing the Scooby's faces pale at the thought.

"Yes, I believe he's going to try and resurrect Voldemort again."

"But he can't!" Harry jumped up, "And even if he could, what makes him think he needs Xander to do it?"

"Remember the Dagger Harry?" Ron was catching on quickly; of course he'd been listening to Hermione muttering about for an hour, just staring at her as she flipped through book after book. He was a besotted idiot.

"What about it?"

"When Xander used it some of his personality was implanted. It made its way to Voldemort; McNair used it some before we'd destroyed it. He knows a bit about Xander, and he thinks, we think, he could use Xander to "locate" Voldemort. For lack of a better explanation," he waited for a second for that to sink in, and then took a deep breath for the other shoe.

"He's going to want my eye," Xander beat him to the punch, verifying his seer status.

"That's what we think." Hermione admitted with a deep sigh, sitting in the library chair limply.

"Well he can't have it!" Buffy stood, adamant. "We're not going to let him have it, once squished eyeball in a lifetime is enough!"

"Well, it probably wouldn't be squished…" Ron offered, and then shut his trap as Buffy turned to glare.

"Mystical spoon?" Xander laughed.

"Yep… mystical spoon." The two Cyclops laughed while the rest of the room just stared, glared, or ended up chuckling.

"Well, even if he succeeded in spooning out Xander's eye, he wouldn't be able to resurrect Voldemort. His soul was sucked into hell in so many pieces I'm sure the next times he's reincarnated it'll be as a swarm of not-very-intelligent-insects." Ginny looked around at the silence and shrugged, "What? He destroyed himself when he made his stupid "soul canisters of evil". He screwed the pooch!" Then chuckled when Harry turned red.

"Literally."

There was a horrible pause.

"EWWWW!"

* * *

"You have to admit," Harry commented to Buffy as they stood on the docks and watched the recent dust from slaying drift with the wind. "It was pretty funny. I mean, the looks on all of your faces…"

Buffy turned to him and shoved his shoulder. "It wasn't funny; I might be scarred for life! Just please reassure me, one more time."

"All right," Harry chuckled as he raised his right hand in oath. "I swear to whatever gods you hold sacred, I did not witness Voldemort in indecent relations with canine life."

"Fine." Buffy swung the ax and rested the handle on her shoulder as she concentrated for any resonating demonic energy. Harry had decided, just as a precaution, to narrow down the "black splotches of evil" on his map. While there was high activity at some docks warehouses, the area of ink had been smaller in this area. He surmised that it had been felt out as a temporary hideout, but hadn't worked to McNair's advantage. So they came heavily armed, but not really expecting more than the occasional vamp.

So far they'd been right.

"You about ready to call this a night?" Harry asked, stifling a yawn.

"Yeppers," Buffy agreed, bored out of her skull. She turned to the last warehouse and swung the axe to chop off the lock. "Right after this one clears out."

"Sounds good," he kicked open the door and blinked wearily at the scene that greeted them. It took a full ten seconds to reengage his brain. Buffy just jumped into the fray and started chopping off heads. In the midst of the chaos Harry rushed in and grabbed the unconscious girl from the alter and hauled her out the door.

* * *

just a little reassurance... the girl they just saved has nothing to do with the plot... they're just going to take her home and admonish her not to go anywhere with freaky faced guys... good advice huh?


	27. ow, my arse

really, really short chapter... not even 1,000 words... I just figured I should post what I've got before I forget I'm even working on this story... keep the hope alive and all that. And, by the way, notice that I'm conciously using capitol I's in the notes... just for those of you who've griped about it.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Harry Potter do not belong to me.

* * *

_He noticed the warm brown eyes first, then the killing curse. But the green light wasn't moving, it was like a wash over the back ground, just the eyes and that horrid green glow. He shivered and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to rub warmth into his shoulders. _

"_It's not dangerous," the voice matched the eyes, warm like caramel. "…I'm not dangerous," she continued, imploring. _

_With a deep breath Harry made himself calm down, stop associating. Curiously enough, as he forced the reference away, he could feel warmth begin to seep into his bones. The green light sparkled, like someone had dumped glitter into the swirling mess. Just the thought of a pixie performing Avada Kedavra made him scoff. _

_Then he felt her hand on his bicep, soft, warm. Her other hand on his cheek, and as he looked up at her, the faintest hint of a grin. _

"_I have no idea what you really look like you know… are you real? Are you just a dream?" _

"_Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He felt her lips close to his ear, the hair brushed against the opposite cheek her hand rested on. He took that proximity as an invitation and rested his hands on slim hips. She smelled nice, flowery, nothing he could identify though._

"_I loose details when I wake up anyway," he admitted. He could recall with perfect clarity that he'd had a dream, and it was about a girl… then almost nothing. This was really starting to piss him off…_

_Her hand was moving down his chest…_

_He moved in, pressing his hips to hers…_

_Her lips gently brushed his lips…_

"HARRY!"

"Wha-?"

"Wake up!" Willow bounced on his bed and tugged his hand to wake him faster.

"Why?" he whined. Willow almost relented; he was as cute as Xander was when just waking. His eyes were stubbornly squeezed tight; his mouth opened into a deep yawn and his body was stretching leisurely under the sheet. Willow wondered what it was about men that made them able to stretch their bodies like that. If it had been permanent Harry would be about five inches taller!

"Because!"

"That's not a good reason Willow, that's a stupid word," Harry turned over so his back was to the Wiccan, and adjusted his pillow under his head.

"Sting!" she cried, smacking her hand against his ass.

"Yipe!" Harry jumped about a foot in the air as his eyes burst open and started watering at the sharp pain in his behind. "WHAT THE HELL?"

"Hermione wanted me to wake you up," Willow shrugged, the grin tugging the sides of her mouth made him want to strangle her in the worst way.

"I think my arse is broken…" he moaned as he rubbed the bruised cheek.

"Aww… you said arse…" Willow gave up and giggled. "You're so British."

* * *

"Hermione, I was having a really nice dream…" Harry complained as he sat at the kitchen table. He rubbed his hand against his skull and ignored the giggling of the slayerettes. He knew his hair was sticking up everywhere; he just didn't care right now.

"The one about the "unknown chick"?" she asked sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast under his nose.

"Ron!" Harry protested as he piled the egg onto the toast.

"Sorry mate," the voice came from the living room behind him. "It just came out. By the way, she thinks they might be prophetic, you might want to look into that…"

"I'll look into it on my own, when I feel like it, and what did you want me awake for?" He asked again.

"We managed to pin point McNairs base of operation." She told him as he choked on his milk.

"Wh-what?" he got to his feet and grabbed Hermione's arm so she had to face him. "How?"

"Xander, actually."

"Ok, how?" Harry let go of Hermione and walked into the kitchen to get some coffee. As he doctored it he pointedly did not look at his friends. Calmly he sat back down and took a breath. "Please explain."

"Xander has a connection to the knife, the knife has a connection to McNair, the law of contagion."

"So you're basing your answer on a nebulous infection theory?"

"And Willow checked out the building for recent magic activity." Xander put in as he sat next to Harry and stole his coffee.

"How is she?"

"She said that the magic surrounding the building felt kind of like yours, but she was in the shower the second she got back."

"Yeah, he kind of makes you feel like you've got spiders dancing over every inch of your skin. Not pleasant." Willow sat next to Harry and stole his toast.

"He's a psychopath. He makes you feel like you should scald the skin off your body whenever he gets near."

"Yeah, I think we should take him down as soon as possible."

"Does anyone have any ideas?" Harry asked the assembled slayerettes and crew.

"Um…" Mirabel shyly raised her hand, "I think I do."

* * *

just a transition chapter... I'm thinking I'm going to get rid of McNair before bringing in Dawn and fixing Xander's eye... what do you think?


	28. do i have egg on my face? McNair

ok, it's short... but this chapter marks the beginning of the end... so I hope you enjoy.

* * *

McNair watched the slight blond woman walking down the street with the Chosen-One at her side. The boy was smaller than he'd thought from previous surveillance, and the blond with him was twirling a wooden stake in her hand like a baton.

"I'm serious Xander," she was saying as he almost tripped over his own feet, she paused to check on him, but kept the stake twirling. "We really need to find that McNair guy for Harry."

"Yeah, I know, I'm just stumped as to why he'd still be around if he knows Harry is looking for him." He reached up to scratch at the eye patch, and removed the hand before it could touch. It seemed like he was still getting used to wearing it. Poor boy, McNair scoffed, He'd just have to get used to it… if he lived through the ceremony the death-eater had planned. He'd have to get used to a blindfold, not just a patch- if he survived; and with that thought in his head he sauntered neatly onto the sidewalk just in front of the pair.

It was stupid, really, to let his target out without a Wizard to protect him. But he supposed the slip-up from his idiot earlier hadn't been seen for what it really was. They couldn't know that the White Knight was his target instead of the damned "Man-Who-Defeated".

He raised his wand hand and shouted, "_Incarcerous!"_

He wasn't prepared for the quick fire, "_Protego!"_ from the man, or the sudden high kick from the woman. "_Incarcerous_!" the boy shouted and he felt the iron rings surround his entire body. He could not move. "_Mobilicorpus_." And just like that he was floating, bound, in the air.

They weren't Wizards! What had just happened?

With wide eyes he watched as the boy started to shrink, started to grow hips and breasts and… hot pink hair?

"You damned AUROR!"

Tonks bowed with a wide grin and patted Buffy on the back, studying the lump on the mans chin with triumph. Somehow the baggy men's clothing she wore, with the sleeves sliding down and covering her hands didn't seem ridiculous at all. "Good job Slayer! He's gonna bruise for a good long while." She slipped a smiley-face pin to the mans robe and waved brightly as he port-keyed away.

"Do you think the others are done at the warehouse yet?" Buffy asked as they sauntered back the way they'd come. Tonks paused for a moment to hitch the belt around her waist just a bit tighter.

"Of course, Our's was the more tricky. Harry was right though, when he said that McNair wouldn't trust the capture of Xander to his minions." Tonks shrugged, it had taken a lot of wandering around the district looking helpless for McNair to fall for their trap. The couple had been walking for three hours straight without any action. Apparently the local vamps knew not to attack Xander, so Buffy had been bouncing with adrenaline all night.

"Do you think Harry will spar with me when we get home?" Buffy asked, rocking back and forth on her toes.

"Maybe…" Tonks wanted to watch another knock-down dragged-out fight between the two. The last one she'd been too emotional to watch, she and Harry needed the time apart to calm down and think. But she'd heard that it was legendary. Apparently the entire house full of Slayerettes had sneaked down to watch.

* * *

Xander hated waiting. He hated waiting sooo much he was tempted to repaint Buffy's room pink in protest. What stayed his hand was the fact that he would have to repaint it and listen to Buffy complain at the same time. He could take the repainting; he just didn't want the lecture.

He wasn't allowed out of the house. There were wards all over the place so that no Wizard could sense him. Tonks had stolen some of his clothing and made an amulet with "Ode du Xander" attached to lure McNair away. The bulk of the Slayerettes were crashing the warehouse, Hermione and Ron with them just in case. And he was sitting here in the kitchen, waiting, listening to Ginny and Mirabel making dinner.

He had Mirabel to blame for this plan. He had her to thank for it as well. Make a decoy, she'd said, the bad guy will never think we would be "cowardly" enough to do something so sneaky. But hey, she'd said, why not just be smarter than him to begin with?

Smart, funny little girl, and she'd blushed when he called her that, he remembered. Not that he'd never known the girls to have a crush on him, but most of them told him straight out. He'd never really noticed Mirabel before, and it seemed that she'd taken pains to avoid him. He thought it was cute, really. She'd grow out of it, they all eventually did, but he thought the way her blush matched her hair was adorable.

Also, the way she turned blue as she coughed up a lung was alarming! He jumped off his seat and grabbed the smoking pot from the stove, dumping whatever concoction they were trying to make into the overlarge sink. Green smoke rose before he could switch on the water.

"What the hell were you making?" he asked Ginny as the redhead quickly got over her own coughing fit. Xander made his way to Mirabel and rested his hands on her shoulders gently. He studied her pupils as she looked up at him, satisfied that they were reacting normally he rubbed her shoulders and pulled her into a little hug.

"We were trying to make my mothers chicken noodle soup…" Ginny admitted, still a bit flushed from fumes.

"Chicken noodle?" Xander asked as his eye went back to the smoldering mess in his sink.

"I think," Mirabel managed between wheezing, "That we should order pizza."

"Right," Xander nodded as he released her, noticing the healthy pink blush before turning to grab the phone from the hook. He grinned at the way Ginny was smirking at him and shrugged. Hey, he was going to get his entertainment where he could find it!

* * *

and no... there will be no romance between Mirabel and Xander (at least not in this fic. she's got to grow up before any hanky-panky can occur). And cooking is harder than it looks!

I know McNairs end was short... but I never acctually planned for it to be anything else. Maybe one day he'll escape custody and pick on Harry or Xander again, but I don't have anything planned for that scenario... I just thought this would be the best ignoble ending for a man who probably wanted a bad-guy speach. He had one planned out, I'm sure. Alot of, "Now is the time of our ect... ect..." Anyway, I hope you liked it, and my concious attempts at capitol "I".


	29. of siblings and responsibilities

Here you go! The next chapter or so... I have a lot in my head that I want to get out, but it's fighting with me every step of the way. The end is sooooo close! Yet so very far away. My GOAL is to be done before the end of the year, but we all know how realistic that goal is... Here's hoping. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

As the rest of the group stumbled in, around the crack of dawn, both Buffy and Tonks looked over with winces.

"It looks like we got the bargain tonight," Buffy muttered taking a sip of hot chocolate. Tonks nodded agreement as Harry sloshed in, covered in blue goo.

"This is ridiculous!" he protested, both Ron and Hermione were trying not to laugh at him. Not only because they were conspicuously clean, but he smelled down right horrible!

"Well, it's not our fault…" Hermione started out, but Harry growled at her.

"It IS your fault!"

"Hey! I just tried to clean you up! It's not MY fault that their blood multiplies when exposed to a direct magic source!" Buffy and Tonks bit their lips, trying not to laugh at Harry's downright murderous glare.

"I'm taking a shower." He muttered, turned on his heel, slipped a bit on the slime that had plopped onto the floor, straightened himself out and stomped away. It was a good thing that all the floors until the bedrooms themselves were tile and wood.

As soon as he was gone the entire first floor burst into hysterical laughter.

* * *

By the time Harry cleaned up and crashed into bed Xander had woken up and started breakfast. Slayers that had been at the warehouse were reporting to Buffy, the Slayers who had school were out the door, and the wizards were safely ensconced in the basement, sleeping.

So when the telephone rang, Xander answered as he stood at the kitchen counter, whisking eggs in a metallic bowl. Buffy wandered in as he was nodding, with slight, "Uh-huh, Uh-huh…" coming from his mouth. "Well, I'm cooking, so I'll let you go… and yes, she's right here… uh-huh… well you can talk to her now or you can wait for my desiccated corpse to pick you up from the airport… that's what I thought… Hey, Buff, your sister's not funny at all and you can tell her I said so." With a squeal Buffy jumped up and grabbed the phone from Xander's ear/shoulder hold.

While Buffy talked to Dawn, Xander fried up the scrambled egg and fed the Slayerettes that had just come in from patrol or had been part of the assault teams on the warehouse, before they went to bed.

"Dawn said that the term usage was wrong, she was just correcting you, it wasn't meant to be funny…" Buffy smirked as she hung up the phone.

"But it was." They finished the younger girls comment together; it was so often used, with slight smirks.

"Yeah Buffy, I know desiccated means dried out, and yes, I wouldn't be an old corpse, I'd be a fresh drippy, icky corpse… but still." He rolled his eye. He loved playing big brother to Dawn. It fit rather well.

"So, tomorrow at seven then?"

"We'll see the Dawnster tomorrow at seven pm, come rain or shine." Xander peaked out at the clouds gathering in the sky. "Most likely rain."

"How do you think they'll all get along?" Buffy asked, more absently than anything. Xander knew she was talking about the wizards, but shrugged. He might be the seer of their group, but he had no clue what to expect. They hadn't told Harry and his friends about the Key, and he was more than a little curious.

Would they sense something off about his Dawn Patrol? Would Dawn sense something odd about their wizard friends? He hoped they would get along, mostly for Dawn's sake, because she seemed so alone sometimes and he got the feeling that she might need someone who could protect her and still let her be herself, be a good friend instead of a sister or a student. He loved Dawnie with all his heart, and he knew the feelings were the same from her, but there was something off. He mused in his head, if she and Harry hit it off like he thought they would, like he could _almost see_, Buffy might just about flip.

* * *

"So you think… like this?" Harry was chatting with Hermione in the library, leaning over her shoulder and pointing something out in the book she was reading. She turned her head to smile brilliantly at him, their noses almost touching.

"Exactly, Harry, you've been paying attention!" Ron smirked as he watched them throw theories all over the place, often placing hands intimately on hips to move the other, or leaving a slight peck on the cheek when they got excited about some intricate point or other. It was a good thing he was secure in the relationship he had with Hermione, and that he could recognize now, what he missed when they were teenagers, that as only children Harry and Hermione had somehow become siblings. Of course he wouldn't act that way with his own sister, it would be too creepy, but for his fiancé and his best friend, it just seemed to work.

It was pretty much what made them Gryffindor's "Golden Trio". Oh, and how Harry blushed whenever they were called such, he hated the fame that surrounded his name, and the fact that there were all sorts of monikers that described him and his friends seemed to only make him fluster further. In fact, it got to the point where Harry had started to wear disguises every time he'd left Grimmauld Place. Unfortunately that meant he and Hermione had to wear disguises every time they wanted to see their friend. It was ridiculous, and such a problem that Ron figured Harry might never step inside Great Britain again, now that he'd traveled the world and not been mobbed everywhere he went.

Ron paused in his deliberations when he realized his thoughts were jumping all over the place, and then let them linger on the amount of skin he could see of Hermione's thigh. She was wearing a skirt again today, similar to her old school skirts… he praised whoever made those skirts the uniform on almost a daily basis back when they were still students.

"Ron…" he heard briefly, but only smiled a bit in response. "Ronald? Are you listening to me?"

"Hermione, leave the man alone, can't you see he's in his happy place?" Harry muttered after pulling an old book off the shelves and flipping to a section in the middle. He smirked at Hermione as she huffed indignantly.

"Why does he smirk like that all the time?" she asked Harry. Harry, for his part, just shook his head. Hermione knew why, she just liked complaining about it. She felt sexy whenever Ron looked at her like that. She blushed just the slightest bit at Harry's chuckle and went back to shelving the books they didn't need.

* * *

Dawn, for the most part, was the eye of the storm. While her little Slayers ran around to prepare for their night patrols, she sat at the table and made sure that all her contact information was written out and placed next to the phone. She briefly explained, once again, to Nimue and Stacy that Patty was in charge, and yes, they had to pay attention to her and do as she said. It was about staying safe, and learning how to lead, or how to follow, and it was a lesson they all needed to take to heart. They nodded, not angry, just not completely happy. That too was a lesson. They couldn't have things their way all the time, and they weren't always going to be in charge. Of course, if they had problems they could always call her, but she would refuse to listen to a petty squabble. She stressed that she was not going on vacation, she was helping Xander, and they would not interrupt her for something trivial. On pain of no ice cream.

Death threats rarely worked on Slayers, but she'd found that since she had control of the purse strings, if she refused to purchase something, like ice cream or coffee, until they figured out their own idiocy… well, it helped speed things up. They were teenagers after all.

So when the cab pulled up to the house she made sure to hug each girl, reminded them to be good, and that she was proud of them. Positive reinforcement was always of the good.

And when the cab pulled away from Casa De' Slayer, she finally sighed in relief. It wasn't that she didn't like being hen mother to the slayerettes, but she was finally ready for something else; something that had nothing to do with her sister's calling. She'd find something while she was away… she just knew it.

* * *

Xander was meditating in the basement, breathing in, breathing out, faintly sensing the difference in the scent as someone sat cross legged on the floor in front of him and joined him. Breathing in, breathing out, breathing in, the scent of oranges and something dry like wood. Breathing out. His head swum around, he was determined to ignore it… but that cackling in his head, Bouda, seemed to think that the smell was something he should pay attention to. So he opened his eye, and just watched Ginny as she breathed in, let it out, and smiled.

"I can feel you watching me," she smiled, her eyes still closed.

"Really?" He scooted forward until their knees touched.

"I grew up with six brothers… I know when I'm being watched."

Xander had to be impressed, "Six?"

"All of them older, and very protective of the sister," her eyes opened and pinned him under their amused glare. "And her virtue."

"Really? And how does that work?" Xander had to ask.

"We put a bell on it," Ron's voice came from the hallway, dry, but entertained. "She's too charming for her own damn good."

"And you wouldn't have me any other way, brother-mine."

"Like hell." Ron managed to hold back any intent until he was right behind her, then lunged. Xander watched in fascination as the two youngest Weasley's began wrestling. In almost no time, it seemed, Ron had Ginny in an impressive hold, legs pinning legs, arms wrapped around her elbows. Then Ginny wiggled a bit and shot her hand out, tickling Ron's side until he lost concentration and let go. She rolled away and sat up, panting, then smirked and shot her hand out, like she was pushing him from across the room. Ron stumbled and fell down, only to complain loudly as he found he couldn't move.

"No fair!" he protested. "No wandless magic in wrestling matches!"

"But you're bigger than me!" Ginny argued, then turned puppy eyes on Xander. "You agree with me, right Xander? A girl should use every advantage she's got."

"Yup," Xander agreed with a grin.

"Traitor," Ron muttered as Ginny let him back up.

"Hey, Ron, I train girls to do stuff like that," he pointed out. "Pretty, adorable, Truck bench-pressing, girls."

"Point," Ron nodded, then looked over at Ginny as if something profound just occurred to him. "Thank Merlin you're not a Slayer."


	30. stop poking the hallucination

Short chapter, but one that's been long awaited. I waffled back and forth on how to do this meet... and I think I did ok. Hope you like!

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Harry Potter do not belong to me!

* * *

"She's not supposed to be REAL Ron! She's supposed to be a figment of my imagination!" Ron watched in awe, he thought he'd seen Harry truly loose it. But that was nothing compared to this.

He hadn't known what to expect when Buffy's little sister had arrived. But this… this was completely out of the blue.

Harry had been joking around with Mirabel and some of the other little Slayers, making meatballs and tossing vegetables every which way for the girls to catch in their mouths, when Dawn had walked into the kitchen. She'd been laughing with Xander, obviously on her way to meet the Wizards, when she caught sight of Harry, and Harry turned to face her.

When their eyes met there was a pause. Xander had heard of moments like that, seen them on movies, but when they actually happened in real life? Well, it was awkward to say the least. There was silence for half a breath, both Harry and Dawn blushed up to their eyebrows, then turned on their heels and left through the closest exit. Harry pushed out the backdoor to the porch, Dawn back down the hallway, where Buffy was now interrogating her.

"You know Harry? How do you know Harry?" Ron heard before he had the presence of mind to close the door behind him.

"Harry?" Ron leaned back against the door, letting his silence speak for him. That was all Harry needed to start ranting. In the midst of all the words flowing forth from his friend, Ron got the impression that Harry had no clue who she was, or had been, but knew the instant eye contact was made, that this was his infamous "mystery dream girl", and it was freaking him out!

All around Harry things were floating up, the flowers were growing or shrinking or turning odd colors. The porch chairs were zipping around like puppies on acid, and Harry's hair was sticking out with small bolts of electricity flying about and zapping passing flies.

Ron just watched, waited, patient as he had learned to be, for Harry to calm down.

* * *

Dawn was still speechless. She was leaning against the hallway wall while her sister peppered her with questions she didn't even hear.

How was this possible? How was it that she had never really seen his face before, and now all of sudden…

She'd never really remembered details of her dreams with him. That was why she hadn't thought they were prophetic in any way. Granted some of the dreams had told her information that was useful in certain situations… like when she became a giant, or how to meditate to access her powers. But because they weren't prophetic and the information could have been something she'd read and then forgotten, this guy didn't really exist, and maybe she just needed to get out and get a life.

She was tempted to peek back into the kitchen, but was still frozen with shock. She felt, more that heard, Xander push Buffy away. Buffy huffed a bit, but conceded to Xander as the one-eyed man tossed an unresponsive Dawn over his shoulder and entered into the library, closing the rest of them out. He set Dawn carefully on the sofa and knelt in front of her, taking one of her hands in his own.

"You've never met him, have you Dawnie?" he asked, rubbing her hand lightly. It was all Dawn could do to shake her head.

"But you know him?" she nodded.

"Am I going to have to get my shot gun?" he twisted his lips into a grin as she snorted out a laugh. It was a tiny guffaw, but at least it was something other than unmitigated shock.

"No… I-" they were interrupted by a knock on the door and Ron's red head sticking in slightly.

"Harry kinda wants to talk to you," he smiled hesitantly. "Kinda, alone, if you know what I mean."

"Ummm… all right," Dawn bit her lip, waiting.

"Can you come out on the porch? Harry won't want to loose control around all the books. They're kinda flammable, you know?"

"Is he still having trouble with that?" Dawn asked, amazed. She thought he'd gotten control of his magic mood swings. Then she blinked. Did she really know that about him? What did he know about her? Before she could re-freak out she squared her shoulders and stood. With a decisive nod she took a deep breath and followed Ron out into the hallway, pausing only slightly before going through the door he held open for her and greeting the night air.

* * *

"I don't know you," Dawn started right off. Harry stood, his back to her. He studied the backyard garden as if it held the answers to life's mysterys.

"At the same time, you do," he replied.

"When I was fifteen, you held me in my dreams, and I cried so hard," Dawn didn't know what else to say. It had been an emotional time, and the first time she could really remember dreaming of him, of something specific that helped her get through something.

"Your sister had just died. My godfather had just died. We both needed someone." Harry shrugged. He recalled that dream as well. She'd just shown up after a violent flash-back to the Department of Mysteries. He'd been staring at the Veil, then turned when he heard a scream. She was trying not to cry as she looked off the top of a rickety tower and when he turned back the Veil was nowhere to be seen. Then he looked back at her and they were in the middle of a forest clearing. She was trying not to cry, he didn't think she'd even realized their venue had changed. A tear slid down her cheek, and he just enveloped her in his arms.

When he'd woken up details were fuzzy, but he'd felt a little bit better about everything.

And now, here they were, standing apart like they were strangers, talking about things that should have made them the best of friends.

"I never thanked you," Harry shrugged as he turned to face her.

"For what?"

"For convincing me to let my friends help me, when I truly needed them."

"You can't go through life alone, shouldering all the burdens."

"And for being there with me, when…" Harry tried to put all his emotions in his eyes, so she would know without him having to say it.

"You needed me," Dawn let out a breath as she moved forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. "You needed something besides the pain to hold on to, or you would have been driven insane." She remembered the long dreams, the torture, and the pain that she couldn't feel, but had to watch. She remembered what he looked like with blood matted in his silky hair, burns and bruises covering his entire body, sometimes even a bone or two poking through skin.

She talked to him at night, when he slipped into unconsciousness and moaned his agony in fever-induced hallucinations.

"You know, it's kind of ridiculous," Harry managed as he saw her acceptance.

"What's that?"

"We're both involved in heavily magical communities and neither of us thought the other was real." Harry would have laughed it off if her eyes hadn't narrowed. She glared up at the sky above them.

"That's hysterical," she muttered dryly. "Did you do anything around the time we started dreaming of each other that might explain this connection we have?"

"I," Harry thought back, then scowled. "I made a wish."

"Damn, D'Hoffryn," Dawn shook her head. "I made a wish too."

"What was your wish?" Harry let himself smirk, this was turning out interesting.

"What was yours?" Dawn asked, still pissed, but willing to push off the temper tantrum for a little bit.

"I just wanted someone to talk to," he raised his hand and grabbed hers from his shoulder, wrapped it up in his own fingers and swung it a bit.

"Me too," she looked up at him and stepped closer. "I needed someone who would be there for me, just for me and not because of who my sister was."

"I needed someone who could be with me and not my famous persona," Harry agreed. "Hermione and Ron were pretty great, but I… I just couldn't…"

"You couldn't expose them to the fact that you felt yourself a fraud; that you couldn't understand why they would have all this trust in you. All those great, big, goo balls of faith, right?"

"You always understood," Harry let his head bow down until his forehead was resting against hers. "You never told me to get over myself; you just listened, and helped. So thank you."

"Hey, no thanks are necessary! You helped me just as much," Dawn let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder as he let his arms envelop her smaller body. "You listened to me when I cried, you helped me get over it each and every time I did something stupid or something stupid was done to me… Did I ever thank you for that reverse growth potion?" She lifted her head for a second and frowned at him.

"I still wish you would have appeared in Big Mode in your dream. I've always wanted to see a hot giant." Harry teased, but apologized when she smacked his shoulder.

"It wasn't my fault! But the potion formula helped, so thank you."

"You're welcome." And was pleased when she laid her head back down on his shoulder.

They were both concerned about their newfound ease around the other, but couldn't really protest it. They had, after all, been sharing dreams for almost a decade now. And in the back of their minds they were both wondering if maybe this was why…

"So, I guess we have to explain this to everyone." Harry pulled back a bit and ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing around to cup her chin

"Do we?" Dawn whined a bit. Harry raised an eyebrow and pointed behind her, to where not only Buffy, but it seemed the rest of the household was leaning against the glass French doors. Hermione waved as she caught Harry's eye, and smiled a smug little grin.

"We could just lie," Dawn sighed. "But I suck at lying… and so do you." She chuckled as he poked her in the ribs.

"Hey, I'll have you know…" Harry grimaced. "Ok, you're right. I suck at lying."

So Dawn turned around, one arm still around Harry's waist as one of his rested negligently around her shoulders. Together they walked back to the house.

* * *

So I'm going to ask you what one of my new Pharmacists asks in a goofy German accent.

"You Like?"

Hope you did. The next chapter will get back into Xander's eye (eww!) and how we can fix it. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for all the reviews!


	31. I thought tests would be the death of me

here's the next chapter! enjoy!

Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

* * *

This was not the way he'd imagined meeting his girlfriends family.

Of course, that being said, he knew them already and was more than a little confident that they did like him.

This also wasn't the way he'd pictured meeting his girlfriend.

But his life had never been easy, and Dawn just smiled up at him when he shrugged in response to the gathered crew in the kitchen.

"Apparently we know each other," he said into the void of sound. He almost broke down laughing as Dawn snorted.

"A bit of an understatement there, don't cha think?" she asked, then pushed the issue by pulling his face down and melding their lips together. The floor dropped out from under him… literally.

They surfaced from the pool that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the kitchen floor, sputtering. Harry glared at Hermione, but was well aware that she'd stopped him from grabbing Dawn and hauling her upstairs to his room, regardless of the shocked Scooby's surrounding them.

"So, how'd you crazy love-birds meet?" Xander asked as he offered Harry his hand. On the other side of the pool Buffy was hauling Dawn up and handing her a towel.

"I've been dreaming about her for years," Harry responded without thinking, and found himself back in the pool. Xander glared down at him as he resurfaced.

"Dreaming nice innocent dreams right?"

Harry gulped under the one-eyed glower.

"Of course," then he couldn't help himself. "She helped me with my arithmetic homework… afterwards."

"Harry, get your ass out of there mate," Ron hauled Harry out and Hermione fixed the floor, keeping herself between Harry and Xander. "And shut the hell up. I don't think I could stop him from killing you if he so choose!" he hissed as Harry performed a dry spell.

"Lets change the subject!" Hermione cried out like a camp counselor with way too much spirit. She clapped her hands together and started herding people from the kitchen. "We have tests to perform on magic capability's and linking!"

* * *

Dawn sat in the middle of the library in full lotus, calmly centering her body and her power. As she felt the earth beneath her Hermione muttered a few words and constructed a shield around them both.

The shield was necessary, as Hermione explained, because they were going to be meshing power. They were both very talented and powerful in their own rights, and a single misstep could potentially suck the entire state of Ohio in to the earth, not unlike Sunnydale which was now a gigantic and very deep lake.

"I'm going to ask you to do a few things, all right Dawn?"

"Go for it," she muttered, feeling utterly at peace with her place in the universe.

"Take a few deep breaths, then delve into memories for the first time you saw Xander without his eye. Feel the hole, how wrong it is, picture what was meant to be there." Hermione's voice was low, steady, in control. She had to be calm, or her emotions would bleed over to Dawn, and most likely cause an emotional windstorm. But Dawn reacted like a champion. She even did the next step with no prompting from Hermione at all, and reached out, palm up, a small sphere of power balanced on it. If you looked closely, it had a brown iris.

"Can you hold that if I distract you?" Hermione challenged as she whipped up wind and water, splattering Dawn's face with rain drops, and the little magic ball did not waver. "How about this?" And truly hating that she had to be this sure, she sent an image of Harry over their link. But this wasn't the happy, caring, Harry that was baking in the kitchen as they tried to determine how useful Dawn could be as a power source. No, this image was of Harry directly after defeating Voldemort.

Emaciated and broken, dirty with dirt, blood, puss and other things better left unidentified. This was a Harry that was utterly ready to embrace death, and very upset that death did not take him into it's arms.

Dawn shuddered, let out a pained gasp, a tear fell from the corner of her eye. But the sphere of power had not changed a bit.

"My turn," Dawn hissed as she opened her eyes. They were now glowing green, a reflection of her magical heritage. It could not have been more menacing a color to a witch who had personally observed the Avada Kedavra being performed. But Dawn smiled, and the intensity changed to a playful puppy level. Hermione collapsed into a fit of laughter, it was like a thousand fingers were brushing lightly over her skin. But the shield stayed intact, as did the mental link between the two girls. A sharp stab of pain interrupted the laughter, right between her eyes, and the image of Buffy jumping off a rickety tower and the horrible pain in her heart as her sister plummeted to her death, made Hermione want to scream. But the link stayed strong, comforting, and it was done testing.

With a joined thought they dismissed the shield and took deep breaths.

"All right," Hermione nodded. "All that's left is to actually do this."

"After dinner, all right?" Ginny peaked her head into the library. "Got to keep your strength up for this one."

* * *

"So basically what we'll be doing tonight is getting rid of the boy," Hermione had explained the situation to Dawn, about the ghost (essentially) in Xanders head, and the solution she and Harry had devised.

"What do you need me to do?" Dawn asked around a forkful of mashed sweet potatoes covered in pickles. Without even thinking about it Harry had handed her the pickle jar while Hermione watched in disgusted awe. None of them noticed how Buffy's frown deepened; But Ron did, and he thought he had a way to approach the slayer.

"I need you to act as a link between Harry and Xander," Hermione was originally going to ask Dawn to link her up, but after watching them for a few minutes she decided that was the better solution. Both Harry and Xander were men who reacted, and for someone to be fighting in his head it would probably be better if they weren't arguing about how to go about it. She was well aware of her limitations when it came to battles, and this one would go smoother without her in it. "Just a link, nothing more. I think the guys could handle this one on their own," she smirked. Dawn just nodded, well aware of Xanders warrior tendencies. Idly, as she mixed mayonaise and ketchup together with the last of the pickle/sweet potato concoction, she wondered just what else Hermione had discovered about her family in this past week.

"That can't possibly taste good," Mirabel leaned over to look at the sludge like mixture on Dawns plate.

"Wanna bet?" Dawn challenged, waving a piece of chicken at the end of her fork.

"No," she gulped with a disgusted grimace. "I want you to throw that out. You're going to end up killing yourself!"

As the words came out of her mouth, she knew they were the wrong ones. Dawns eyes now had a glint to them that shouted,…

"I dare you." Harry muttered in her ear. And just like that the chicken was dipped, rolled and deposited neatly into Dawn's mouth.

The entire table watched with stomachs clenched. Some of the more sensitive girls looked like they might puke any second. Harry just watched with a smirk on his lips. As she swallowed Mel passed out, barely caught by Xander before she hit the floor.

"That was disgusting," Dawn said calmly as grabbed her milk cup and started chugging furiously. Harry made no attempt to hide his laughter as he got to his feet and moved into the kitchen. He grabbed desert as Ron and Ginny cleared the dinner plates away.

"Here, this will help," he smirked as he handed her a chocolate chip cookie. "The girls made them this afternoon."

* * *

As Hermione, Dawn, Harry and Xander walked out into the yard (once again it was deemed the safest place for magic's that just might fling things around) Ron took a chance and grabbed Buffy's arm.

"What?" she asked, a bit annoyed.

"I just need to talk to you," Ron said seriously. "Lets go down to the gym."

"You think if I have something else to hit, I won't hit you?" she smiled as he paled a bit.

"I'm hoping not to make you that mad, but I am well aware that my tactlessness is legendary." he apologized before hand.

As they descended the stairs Buffy had to admit, at least Ron was honest.

"You could never really lie to your mother, could you?" the smile turned into a smirk, but shrank as he looked back at her with a sad little grin.

"Never, but she pretended when it really counted.," and with a shrug he stepped into the workout room.

"So what's the what? As if I didn't know," Buffy took advantage of the situation as she hefted a large battle axe off the wall sconces. She might as well get some practice in.

"Harry loves Dawn," Ron stated plainly. "He has for years now."

"They just met today," Buffy stated, executing a tricky under the armpit over the head manuever.

"They've known each other forever. What your sister is, what Harry was made when he was a year old… They're both portents for something bigger, for something that was beyond." Ron had thought a lot about various things, subjects that seemed obscure to others fit together like puzzle pieces to him. It was like a chess game. Only nobody else could see the check mate that he did.

"What are you talking about? What happened to Harry?"

"He told you about his past? About Voldemort and how he tried to kill Harry as a baby?"

"Yes."

"Avada Kedavra is an old curse, meant primarily to rip a persons soul from their body. When Harry was hit with it a portal of some kind was formed. Not only was the power blasted back through Voldemort, temporarily banishing him, but power also pooled in Harry. The spell his mother used to save him had to be given freely, in the full spirit of sacrifice. That's what happened with you, when you jumped, to give Dawn the life you thought she deserved to live. That kind of bond fuses people. But at the same time, Dawn is a portal, in the same way that death is a portal…"

"Ron," Buffy warned.

"Listen to me," his voice was low, insistent, and was not going to be subdued just because the Slayer didn't want to listen. Ron had learned to pick his fights carefully, and this was one he needed to win.

"There was no way Dawn was meant to live as long as she has. Harry should be dead now fifty times over. And this special brand of magic unites them. They are the only two people on the planet that can manipulate this magic… This portal magic, and they need to be together to balance out. They can know that, but beyond that," he smiled as Buffy wound down her work out. "They care for each other. Can't you feel that?"

Buffy let the ax fly from her hand and embed in the far wall. It pissed her off, but yeah. She could see it. From the little brushes of his hand against the back of her head, the way she nudged his shoulder with her own, the little smiles and short hand motions that happened to people when they grew up together, knowing each others every move.

She wanted to believe that Harry was a sinister being here to steal her sister away, but she just couldn't reconcile that image with the Harry who'd been caught belting out Pink lyrics in the kitchen. (yeah, she'd heard about that.)

And if she had to think of anyone who'd she'd give her sister to, if she needed protection, Harry came at a close fourth behind Xander, Giles, and Willow. She stalked across the room to the spears.

She could acknowledge it right now, or… she tossed a spear at Ron, who looked up from it with a slight smirk.

"You know how to fight?"

"I know how to fence, and," he kicked the of the spear and with a snazzy twirling of the stick and a fancy flaring of the fingers he set into stance. "I may have had a lesson or two."

* * *

I'm not going to detail Ron VS Buffy, because it's just sad. Yes, Ron gets his ass handed to him... but I can't think of any way that's funny or not just downright disapointing to express in words... anyway, hoped you liked this chapter. Just so you know, i'm only thinking maybe three more chapters and we'll be done... Here's hoping I can work my way out!


	32. Are you calling me fat?

You all have a review from fidalgo (who asked me if the time passed between updates was normal) to thank for this update. I was sitting at home thinking, "it hasn't been that long... what do you mean it's been SIX MONTHS?" so, here you go... one scene closer to the end... and a suprise at the end of this chapter that didn't even occur to me until I was typing it... that's the way it goes sometimes, and now I'm wondering how I'm ever going to fix this one?

btw- view points shift a little, but it shouldn't be too hard to keep up.

Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer do not belong to me. They belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, respectively.

* * *

The night was cool, crisp with the hint of drizzled rain. Xander had been right about that, and he'd brought a picnic blanket out to protect them from the wet grass. It wasn't a full moon, or any other important magical night, it was just quiet and calming. It was perfect for a walk through in his head. Xander snorted, amused.

"So, we'll just sit here and," Willow waved her hand around, creating a soft shimmering shield. Hermione turned around and finished with a smooth incantation and few flicks of her wand. Dawn sat in the middle of the blanket and held out her hands. Xander took one as he sat, Harry the other. "Just connect and get rid of that damned thing. It has no business being in my Xander's head."

Harry grinned, "You heard the lady, Dawn. Let's get to it."

* * *

Xander didn't even feel the transition. Unlike Hermione's involved poem and steady magic the only thing he did was close his eye and then open it. Instead of being a silent observer this time he found himself on a path in the woods. The sun shone down in dappled light, the leaves a dazzling green, the sounds of birds echoed vibrant. Harry took a deep breath and looked around.

"Wow, you've got a nice brain in here," he relaxed his tense shoulders. He'd jumped fully prepared to do battle with the evil little beast right away.

"Yeah, we've got to meet up with Sarge and Bouda before we banish the kid," Xander shrugged. "Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Harry replied. "It's your head after all."

* * *

Hermione watched as the guys smirked a bit, then settled back to calm and composed. She supposed it was best to take the entire thing slow. But the way the guys where sitting she was wondering if maybe they didn't stop for a nice quiet, scenic picnic.

* * *

Sarge had brought out another apple, quartering it with one hand as he studied Harry with a practiced eye.

"You're powerful enough I suppose," he sniffed derisively and tossed him a piece of apple. Harry caught it between his teeth, much like the hyena who stalked up behind him had.

"Thanks," Harry bit off a piece of apple and chewed. "I guess."

* * *

Dawn smirked, "Harry, stop being a smart ass." she muttered under her breath and squeezed Harry's hand with a little shake. "Just get to it."

* * *

The evil little boy was sitting in the bubble, which was showing some signs of wear and tear. Parts of it were black and sooty, as if he'd tried to blast his way out. Other parts showed signs of sharp fingernails or claws scratching to get away. The boy itself looked particularly miffed, and at the moment was sulking in the middle of the circle, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared out at them.

"Ch-yuck!" Harry made a face, like he'd just bitten into something he'd expected to be sweet and came back with a rotted monstrosity instead.

"Yeah, that's why Hermione said any attempts at eye-restoration have to wait until that things gone. She said it was more likely a giant squid tentacle would come out of my eye socket than anything resembling an eye at this point."

"Yes, yes she would put it like that wouldn't she?" Hermione had never liked the giant squid in the school lake. She could never understand why Harry did.

It was simple, Harry had never had a puppy, and the squid liked to play fetch…

Harry shook his head and settled into battle mind-set.

"Ok, I'm going to pop the bubble, hopefully I'll be able to deal with him in one big blast, but if he darts away I'll have to be more delicate."

* * *

Willow watched as Xander grimaced, then it happened.

"Get it! Get it! Get it!" he shouted, clenching his teeth together as he hissed in. "EWWWW!"

* * *

Harry flinched away as the thing exploded into a boogey green, staining goo. Not only was it sticky, he discovered as he lifted his arm to get a better look, but it stank heavily of rotten eggs and old blood.

"Xander?" he looked around to find his companion, only to find a Xander shaped boogey-goo mound on the ground. He was about to panic when the mound sat up.

"That," he scowled as he wiped the stuff from his face. "That, was disgusting."

"Well, I have good news and I have bad news," Harry maintained a straight face while Xander struggled to his feet.

"Just tell me the bad news first, that way the good news is extra goodness."

"We have to clean all this up or it'll permanently stain your psyche."

"And the good news?" Harry used his wand with a speculative wave. He laughed as a large chunk of the goo dissapeared.

"It doesn't multiply when I use magic!"

* * *

Willow and Hermione simultaneously relaxed when Dawn began giggling. Her eyes opened and she smiled at Willow, "Please tell me you got pictures of that!"

* * *

(just so you know, I was really picturing the splatter that happens when K shoots that aliens head in "Men in Black" just a hell of a lot more of it!)

Ron had given Buffy a lot to think about, and his sacrifice in trying to cheer her up while getting the crap beat out of him was appreciated. She smiled gently at the wizard, who was holding an ice pack to his cheek bone and waving off any apologies she tried to make. She hadn't been all that mad after their talk, so the spar was just an easy way to blow off some steam, and she hadn't meant to hit him all that hard. It's just that apparently he was somewhat accident prone when it came to stumbling over his own damn feet. This time he stumbled in such a way that his face hit her fist, not the other way around.

They'd stopping immediately and applied the ice pack, but it was still going to bruise marvelously. He'd told her not to worry because Hermione could help speed the healing process, but he wanted his brothers to ask about it first.

Apparently they didn't know Slayers really existed and he wanted to show off his "battle scar". So the next best thing Buffy could do for the guy was slice him a piece of cake and boil some leaves to make "real English tea."

When the back door opened and Willow stepped through it she looked over with a question in her eyebrow.

"Mission accomplished!" Willow smiled, then slapped a high-five on Buffy's waiting hand.

"How's the combatants?" Hermione moved over to Ron and waved away the ice-pack from her fiance's cheek, wanting to check the damage.

"They're doing well Buffy," she replied as she tisked over the bruise. "That's going to color spectacularly."

"Yeah, they're all out their now looking up at the stars and being all contemplative-like. Apparently Xander's head is like a national park or something…"

"Are you saying I'm fat?" came the incredulous challenge from right outside the door. Xander jumped through the opening just as they could make out Dawns screaming reply.

"No! I'm saying you've got a fat-head! There's a difference!"

"I don't see how you, of all people, could get off saying-"

"Of all people? Of all people?"

"You know what? Forget this!" The loud popping sound of displaced air echoed in the silent kitchen.

"Oh, no you don't!" A second later a flash of shimmering green light danced in front of their eyes.

Buffy blinked away the after-image and turned to a perplexed Xander, who was standing just inside the doorway and looking as if he wished he'd managed to get the door closed before anyone (including him) had managed to hear that exchange.

"Xander," she approached the tall, confused looking man.

"Yeah Buffster?"

"What was that about?" She reached behind him and shut the door. The slamming sound seemed to break everyone of their stupor and all eyes focused on Xander.

"Dawn said something about it being hard to pull Harry from my head, and… well you heard the rest."

"They're having a screaming match because Harry's psychically large?" Willow asked, confused.

"No, that wouldn't be it." Hermione shook her head, but when everyone turned to ask her why, it was Ron who answered.

"Harry doesn't go anywhere he doesn't want to. If it was hard for Dawn to pull him from Xander's head, it was probably because he didn't want to leave."


	33. Am I forgiven for that fat comment yet?

Ok, here's the second part to the last post... just so you know I intended to post them together but I couldn't get the fight correct in my head... so here it is. I'm not entirely pleased with it, but I hope it makes sense to you all as well...

Also I had a review last chapter about how a reader was dissapointed in me because Xander killed Harry? there was no link so I couldn't respond... Usually I would be upset about how someone thinks I care if they're dissapointed in me, but for once I'm wondering about my own writing. Did it seem to anyone else in the last chapter that Xander had killed Harry? I'm lost here... I reread it just to make sure but...?

Ok, I took a few liberties with Dawn's powers, right here at the start of it. Just take it with a shrug. I just wanted the fight to be somewhere other than the garden or in the house. They needed the isolation.

Once again I am dissapointed- I do not own Buffy or Harry. Joss and JK do. damn it.

* * *

"Harry! Get back here!" Dawn screamed as she popped back into existence. Following Harry as he apparated was one of the most uncomfortable things she'd ever done. Not only did she get the sickly sensation of being pulled through a straw, she also had to deal with the vertigo using her portal energys brought. It was like dreaming you were flying and suddenly waking up, convinced you'd just fallen three inches onto your mattress.

"Why? So you can yell at me some more?" Harry grumbled from behind a rock. Dawn looked around, taking in their surroundings, the moon high overhead the endless expanse of desert.

"Only you would apparate to the Egyptian pyramids in the midst of a hissy fit." she grumbled back.

"I find it comforting that there are things that still aren't explained in the world." he admitted, then chucked a loose stone down the hundreds of steps to the bottom. She still couldn't see him, being on the opposite side of the tall top stone, but she knew he'd have a scowl on his face.

"Why was it so hard Harry?" she asked, trying to stay calm. She was well aware of her temper, and her ability to get into a fight over nothing. But this was not nothing.

"Why do you want to know?" came the tart rejoinder.

"If I hadn't pulled you out you would still be taking up residence in Xander's brain! That's not right Harry, it's not good!"

"Just a few more minutes, what would be the harm?"

"You know the harm Harry," Dawn injected with a surgical precision. He did know the harm. He knew that you could only visit another's mind, you couldn't put up housing. It was likely that he could have been stuck in there for all time. His own body just a vegetable with nothing in it.

"It was comfortable in there. He has a rather organized mind, and his friends are nice."

"You know, I thought you'd gotten over that, trying to kill myself, thing." her words bitter, remembering the months he'd contemplated, the ideas he'd shared with her in their dreams, but never followed through on.

"Like you're one to talk," he whispered it, but the night was clear and open. She heard it all.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like I haven't felt the scars," he said, louder this time, she heard him get to his feet.

"That was completely different," Dawn rejected as her hand automatically searched the thin scar on her forearm. "I didn't think I was real Harry, I had to know, I was in a very dark place and it was before I knew you!"

"Well, we've never really known each other, now have we?" He walked around the stone and glared at her. "All we really know is the worst, the pain, the god-awful crap that our lives are made of. You know what? We should never have met, this was the biggest mistake of my short and unlamented screw-up of a life."

His shoulders were set firm, his mouth in an unforgiving line, his eyebrows narrowed down in a furious glare… but his eyes pleaded with her to forgive him… and he didn't even know it.

"I shared with you everything," she sneered in response to his statement. She couldn't fight him if she didn't know what the fight was really about.

"Yes, everything, you were traveling the world with your sister having a grand old time and then settling a house of your own surrounded by little Slayers who look up to you and adore you as their own. And every time I saw you there was something ever more wonderful to share. And you listened to me as I lay bleeding and broken, getting over Voldemort and then hunting down the bastards that followed him. I was full of grime and dark magics, and every time I saw you all I wanted to do was keep going. I wanted to get rid of all the darkness in the world just so you could keep shining! And I just can't do it anymore! After McNair I was done! I wasn't going to bother anymore! I was just going to melt away into obscurity and just stop!"

"And now you can't, because you know I'm real?"

"You CAN'T be real!" he grabbed her wrist and studied the scar there. The wound that she'd inflicted on herself, to prove to herself, that she was and always would be, real.

"Why? Just… why?" her voice went from aggrieved anger to quiet unsure in just three words.

"Because nothing this good could be real!" he shouted. "And if it was real it would just be taken from me. So I didn't want you to exist," he looked up into her, beautiful agony in his every line, until he swallowed and gasped it out. "Because then you couldn't be… you couldn't…" he turned away, hiding his face as the tears gathered. He didn't want her to see them. But his hands were clenched and shaking, she saw, and just like that the burning anger she'd held slipped from her grasp. She wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to rant and rail and just push him around until he understood! But he wouldn't understand. Not like that. If she pushed him he'd just break. He would break into a million little pieces and lock himself in a broom closet until he just shriveled up and died.

No matter how much therapy or talking to his friends had helped, there was a piece of Harry that was still just a little boy locked away and unwanted. A child where everything he'd had was at the contempt of another.

What the true tragedy was, she thought, that so much evil had engulfed him that at times he couldn't, literally couldn't, see the light that connected him to the world. She was sure this was a wall that Hermione, Tonks and even Ron had butted up against. But she was also positive they couldn't really understand.

"Harry, I shouldn't be real." she said calmly, she didn't move even though all she wanted to do was go to him. "I shouldn't have been made into this. I was nothing more than a key, one turn to open any door you've ever imagined."

"Dawn," his voice broke over her name.

"No, Harry, you got your turn, now it's mine." she approached him and placed her hand on his shoulder, trailing it up until it touched his cheek. She leaned her head against hollow between his shoulder blades. "But when you touch me, Harry, or I touch you, I'm real. I know it. And even if I was taken away tomorrow, I'd still be here today." her fingers touched the dampness on his cheek and she felt his shoulders slump down.

"This is a really stupid fight you know?" He tried to back track. At this point he knew she'd back off. They always did. His fury was calmed and she had a life to get back to.

"No" she said, surprising him. "No, it's not a stupid fight Harry Potter!" She spun him around and placed her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look into her eyes. They blazed green fury, and he was momentarily enchanted by their fierce beauty. "You won't shrug me off like you do your friends. We are more than that! You can tell me anything! You already have! You've poured out your soul to me, you've given it to me to keep and I intend to hammer it back together if it's the last thing I ever do!"

"Dawn, you don't… you can't know what it is you're saying," he denied and tried to pull away.

"You gave me your heart, you gave it to me for safe keeping when you thought I was just a figment of your imagination. You locked it away from yourself so you couldn't hurt anymore! I was there! I heard your reasoning and I told you then it wouldn't work!" Dawn insisted, she then grabbed his shirt and yanked him down to her level, planting her lips on his and shoving all her feeling for him into a melding kiss.

He didn't even know he was responding until he pushed her up against the stone and tangled his hands in her hair.

"You tried to lock it up Harry," she muttered against his lips. "But you couldn't. You just couldn't."

"Why couldn't I?" he asked, his lips now resting behind her ear as she ran her fingers through his unruly hair.

"Because Harry, I'm your Key, and I refuse to lock you away."

* * *

Xander didn't even mind, the next morning, when he woke up and found Harry and Dawn tangled up together in the sheets on Harry's bed. First because he truly believed they would be great together, and second because at least they still had their pants on.


	34. eye c u

_I shall never again underestimate the unholy power of a truly pissed off woman._

_Does that mean you'll never prank me again?_

_No. It just means I'll be better about getting caught._

So I am marking this as the last chapter in this particular story. I've done all I've set out to do, and hopefully it's made sense to people besides me. So thank you all for the reviews and for sticking with me while this took YEARS longer than I originally planned. I guess life sometimes gets in the way, huh? Anyway, again, thank you, hope you enjoy, and while there will not be a sequel I might come back to this Universe every once in a while for a one-shot.

BTW- Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter do not belong to me. They belong to Joss and JK respectively.

* * *

Really Xander had no idea what was going on around him. He'd woken up and found his honorary little sister in bed (still fully clothed, but in bed damnit!) with the man who was going to regrow his eyeball (a feat he still wanted done). The shovel speech Dawn had handed out, in what seemed like a lifetime ago, was echoing in his head. Yet at the same time it was obvious the two had some kind of a history that was still shocking everyone in the manor house. He understood the shock of meeting an old friend (even if you only knew this friend in your head- seemed par for the course to him acctually) for the first time, it was like when the Soldier made himself known for the first time after the Halloween Incident. Idly musing about tactics and then having something jerk your head to a specific part of a map and the answer suddenly appear in a blindingly obvious light. That, "oh" moment.

That didn't mean he had to like that Harry's arm was around his Dawnie's waist, his fingers caressing the naked skin between her shirt and jeans.

"Ok! Time to wake up!" He screamed above their heads, snickering as Dawn shot up out of bed and almost knocked his head with hers.

"Nothing happened!" She gasped.

"To my ever-living disappointment," Harry muttered as he pulled a pillow over his head to block Xander out. Before Xander could comment on that lovely piece of rhetoric Dawn stood up and grabbed his hand.

"Lets get breakfast, huh? Let the fat ass wake on his own," she smiled as Harry merely shot them both a middle finger salute.

* * *

"OK, so the basic spell is pretty much that, basic," Hermione was explaining over eggs and toast. "It's a spell that we use mostly to replace lost items, but we'll twist it to a specific area ie: in your eye socket, and add diagnostic charms along with basic healing to make sure all the parts connect correctly."

"Seems pretty…" Xander couldn't think of a word.

"Basic, I know," Hermione smiled content.

"Complicated," Dawn disagreed. She smiled at Hermione's pout. "I know you think it's basic, but you deal with merging spells all the time. You were just talking about five, at least five, different spells there Hermione."

"And my eyeball isn't really lost," Xander offered as he took a bite of bacon. "It's squished."

"But it's missing from that area," Hermione shrugged. "I asked Tonks and even sent a preliminary to Professor McGonagall… she seems to think it will work. She asked to be present, but I told her that really, we have enough witches here of such varying skill sets that we've got every calamity covered."

"She probably just wanted to gawk as you did a brand new, never thought up, spell Hermione." Harry scoffed as he entered the kitchen and poured some orange juice. "Do you realize with all of your research you've probably created enough spells to write your own book? She's in awe of you darling, everyone is."

"Don't be ridiculous Harry," Hermione blushed.

"Not being. Anyway, when do you want to do this? And do I have to be Mr. Energizer Bunny again?"

"No, I was thinking we'd start just after breakfast," she paused as Xander started choking, having taken a sip of coffee right before her pronouncement. "Is there something wrong with that? I mean, I can put it off if you've got things to do?"

"NO!" She started as each Scooby jumped up in protest.

"After breakfast is fine!" Xander replied, "I'm just used to a big build up before a major event, so casually announcing that I'll have an eye before lunch was kind of a shock."

"Oh… well, it may take some time for it to fully regrow… um…" Hermione smiled a bit uneasily at the hunger in all of their eyes.

"Put it like this," Harry sat down next to Hermione and pointed at his arm. "It took almost a full day to regrow a bone in my arm. It'll start small and just inflate over a time period."

"I think that might work better… get my singular ocular a chance to balance with the old one again… I used to walk into walls something fierce." Xander calmed down the suddenly nervous witch.

"Yep, he's got the scars to prove it," Dawn grinned.

"That wasn't fair!" Xander protested, "That wasn't my fault! That Spit'n'Shine Demon shoved me into the hallway and the corner just happened to be on my bad side!" He reached up to scratch a small scar over his eye patch that neatly disappeared into his hairline.

"Shif'n'rine demon." Dawn corrected.

"Riiiight, well, depth perception here I come…" he sighed as he stood to take his plate to the sink.

"Yes, then, lets do this." Hermione stood as well and let her hand rest on Harry's back just long enough for him to transfer her some energy. She didn't need a battery for this, but he always wanted to make sure she had enough so she didn't drain herself by accident. He told her to think of it as an extra breakfast one time, she'd dumped her tea on his head but didn't protest the next time he did it.

"I'm not going to have to do anything strange will I?" Xander asked as they walked to the library where Hermione had set up everything she'd need for the casting. "Any phrases or burning herbs?"

"Nope, don't worry about it, I just need you to sit in the circle and concentrate on your eye…" she turned to give Harry a wry grin before pushing Xander into the library. At his faint protest she smirked at him and shouted with an imperious finger pointed down at his pants, "Now Strip!"

The rest of the kitchen was silent as Hermione closed the door behind them, until Harry burst out laughing.

"Whaaa…?" Buffy asked as Harry started to wind down.

"She's joking, she read all these books before going to Hogwarts about witches going "sky-clad" and she never really divorced herself from that. So every once in a while she tries to get us all together for a Wiccan ritual. Of course she doesn't strip herself, she just tries to see how many people she can get to strip before they realize nobody else is."

"That was bloody uncomfortable, let me tell you." Ron protested as he exited the basement. "Of course, having you all see me in my trunks was worth seeing Susie in her knickers…"

"You do realize that's your fiance in there with a naked man?" One of the Slayerettes pointed out.

"I'm secure in my relationship with her, besides, Xander wouldn't do it." Ron shrugged.

"Are you sure? Because he's done some pretty stupid stuff since I've known him," Buffy pointed out.

"Yeah, like what?" Harry asked, curious.

"I'm not sure I want to give you that kind of ammunition," Buffy temporized to Harry's disappointment.

"I'll tell you," Willow promised as she sat next to Ron at the kitchen table and started to butter a piece of toast. "I've known him longer."

* * *

The morning passed with hilarious tales of spells gone wrong, axes left up trees, shoes that mysteriously disappeared only to reappear a few sizes larger and on feet not meant for heels…

But the laughter stopped the moment the door to the library reopened. Almost as one entity the group shifted their gazes down the hall.

Xander stepped out first, his black eye patch replaced with a white compress taped into place, a soft blue glow surrounding it. Hermione came out afterwards, a hand on Xander's back as she steadied his walk down the hall.

"We could hear your laughter after we came up for air. Xander insisted on joining so he could deliver some payback."

"You okay mate?" Ron asked as he scooted over to make more room.

"Yeah, all that's left is time apparently," Xander smiled up as Hermione pulled out a chair for him. "According to my nurse I should be released later tonight."

"Only if your blood work comes back normal," she teased. Ron didn't have any idea what she meant, but the rest of them not so fondly remembered previous hospital visits and nurses that weren't half so cute.

"I just wanted to not be alone with my thoughts because it's itching and starting to drive me nuts," Xander consciously kept his hand from the herb poultice that Hermione told him was full of beneficial magical plants. "And I had to tell the story about the time Buffy managed to get pulled over by the cops for speeding and threatened to pull the cops spine out of his nostril…"

"Hey!" Buffy protested, "He was a demon! It was entirely possible! His spine was completely capable of exiting such a teeny space!"

"His partner didn't think it was so funny."

"His partner didn't know he had spikes down his back on the weekends."

"You were just pissed because he threatened to take your license away."

"Yeah, and he rethought that when I handed it to him," Buffy smirked. "You're Buffy Summers? You? Sorry Ma'am, have a nice day!" she stuttered out in imitation. "I would have gotten away with it too, if not for his stupid partner."

"Who was one hundred percent human and immediately objected," Dawn laughed out. "Had no idea why his usually by the book partner had suddenly decided to allow the drunk lady to continue on her way."

"I was NOT drunk!"

"No, but you drive like it."

"Do not!"

"Buffy?" Xander challenged.

"Fine. But you have to admit, when the demon-cop sneezed and his horns popped up his partner had something else to think about."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly, the Slayerettes returned from school and went off on various exercises or homework or after school TV, the Scoobies hung around the kitchen and told stories that some of the younger girls decided to eavesdrop on, resulting in all new rumors for the mill.

Xander managed to keep his mind off of his eyeball, except for when it started feeling like there was a balloon or something pushing against the atrophied sides. At that point Hermione and Harry decided to teach him how to make pumpkin juice, which weirded him out something good and managed to distract him as he thought up ways to get out of helping. The fact that Dawn insisted it was good just left him with a vaguely unsettled stomach. Dawn ate peanut butter and broccoli sandwiches.

By dinner time Xander was finally able to say, with complete honesty, that he thought there was something in the socket that was the same size as his old eyeball. He hadn't felt anything nudge or move against the walls in a while. Hermione sat him down and made him close his other eye, then move the orbs around as if searching for something inside his head. At first it was like stretching after a long day of sitting down at a computer or researching a demon. That pleasant movement that made you want to yawn. Then it turned into an odd pulling movement, like maybe a couple of Slayers had hold of each of his arms and didn't want to let go just yet. Hermione smiled at his descriptions and told him that after dinner they'd retreat back to the library and she'd take off the patch, see what they had to work with.

Dinner was roast beef and red potatoes, broccoli and cauliflower, and the pumpkin juice was ready for any who wanted to try it. Most of the girls braved the strange beverage and announced that while they wouldn't drink it everyday, it wasn't half bad. Then the house was oddly empty while Slayerettes grabbed brownies and weaponry, wished Xander good luck, and left on patrol.

Hermione had Xander sit in the impressive wing back chair that sat behind the massive oak desk, spun him around so that she was the only one to see what was there as she gently peeled back the white cover. Both his friends and hers were sitting around the fireplace, not even pretending they weren't holding their breaths for the result.

As she pulled away the patch, and smoothed the skin that was slightly pink from the tape, she smiled. Of course it wasn't what she was expecting, but really, when was anything?

Xander looked up at her, blinked a few times and hesitantly reached up his hand. "What's wrong with it?" was his first question.

"Hermione?" Buffy asked, nervous.

"Just the color," Hermione reassured. "It's not a complete match, but it'll probably get better with time. It's a little yellow compared to the other."

With that Xander spun around and took in the room, looking around with two eyes for the first time in years.

"Any blurring?" Hermione asked, "Weird stripes or colors?"

Xander could only shake his head, incapable of speech as Buffy and Willow glomped into his arms. The smiles on everyone's faces were probably powerful enough to power Washington DC for a few decades. Harry looked over and caught the tear that was slowly rolling down Dawn's cheek.

"Thank you, Harry," She kissed his cheek and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Thank Hermione, she did all the work," he pulled her closer in to hug her to his side.

"I will, but thank you for bringing her, this needed to be done."

"Then you're welcome Dawn," Harry looked over and basked in the pleasant warmth that permeated the room. There were happy tears apparent on each face, Tonks and Ginny sat on a window seat and watched while Ron went over to congratulate his fiancé on a job well done. Buffy and Willow were each sitting on one of Xander's knees and playing tug of war almost to examine his new eye, while he sat on the love seat with Dawn, just holding her and feeling like maybe, here, he belonged.

He could see himself with these people, sometime in the nebulous future. Fighting evil, righting wrongs, maybe having a picnic every once in a while… Now all he had to do was convince Dawn that she couldn't live without him…

"So you going to stick around for a while?" Dawn asked, pulling Harry from his thoughts rather abruptly.

"Uh…" Harry didn't know what to say, wasn't he just thinking that?

"Because, you know you can't live without me," She smirked. "Well, you could, admittedly. But it would be a miserable existence, and I'm just not sure I'd be willing to let you do that to yourself."

"Well, I don't really have anywhere else to be, at the moment." Harry shrugged. "Maybe we could just stick around each other for a while, figure things out as we go along?"

"If you want," she cuddled deeper into his side. "If that's what you really want."

"Dawn," Harry tipped her chin up so she looked him in the eye. "That's what I really, really want."

"Ok," she agreed before shifting closer to take his lips with hers. He breathed in her scent, fresh, vibrant, and just let her slip away, back into that comfortable embrace.

"Ok."

* * *

the end.


End file.
